


Despair & Disparity

by Blu3Wind



Category: Golden Child (Korea Band), Infinite (Band), K-pop
Genre: Angst, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Historical, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-03-29 21:44:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 125,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13936035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blu3Wind/pseuds/Blu3Wind
Summary: Following the passing of their parents who were brutally murdered during the Indian Rebellion in Great Britain, Jang Hyunmi and her mentally ill brother Dongwoo transform their country house into an orphanage, helping unfortunate children from being oppressed by social injustice. Their property becomes the rising interest of several businessmen who saw a new opportunity with it. In order to convince the siblings, Nam Woohyun renounces his upperclass lifestyle and stays at the orphanage to woo Hyunmi into signing an agreement. But his prolonged stay starts to shift their perspective as they both realize there are greater things to acquire in life than tangible richness.





	1. Invitation

_Dear Mr. and Miss Jang,_

_I hope this epistle finds you well. I wish to extend a personal invitation, requesting your presence for the formal dance hosted by Mrs. Kim Seulyi. There is a matter I would like to discuss with the both of you under private audience. I hope to see your attendance at the party._

_Yours Respectfully,_   
_Nam Woohyun_

As the day continued to morph itself into the blissful peace of the night, the rich shall never cease the exposure of its wealth. Look at the unnecessary usage of heavyweight paper, written on the creamiest shade of pearl white, tied with an embroidery of gold ribbon, and sealed with a luxurious wax seal. Such a shame when in the end, the expensive and insignificant item both end up in a pile of garbage with an equivalent value of nihil.

“Are you discarding yet another letter?”

Jang Hyunmi recognized the one other female at the orphanage through her steps, knowing only Rika would gallop through the corridors with such enigmatic energy as if she was hopping from rock to rock at the lake. After greeting her with a polite nod, the younger of the Jang siblings returned her attention on the stack of mail on the stand before them.

“It is preposterous; the very thought of controlling us? Summoning us as he pleases and discarding us when we are no longer needed. Why should we have to submit ourselves to their demands?” Hyunmi questioned, flinging another paper in her hand. But recognizing it as another letter bearing similar contents, she did not hesitate to dispose it.

“Because they are our authority,” Rika answered calmly.

“Says who? We do not pay our taxes to them. Their faces aren’t printed on our coins. They are nothing but snobbish people who carelessly spend their wealth on temporary pleasure, or use it as a weapon to humiliate the poor.”

“Mother, you should calm yourself,” Rika spoke, displaying her virtue of patience as a merit. She retrieved another letter from behind her dress, holding it up in front of her. “We have received the official invitation to Mrs. Kim’s event on the morrow. She is known for her astounding parties, having the finest music and richest cuisines. Perhaps we should attend and taste the upper class food without having to spend a single penny for it!”

Hyunmi laughed at the statement, though it appeared to be one of mockery than actual joy. “Isn’t it peculiar how we received an invitation when we are nowhere near the niche of her usual attendees?”

“I suppose Nam Woohyun personally requested your name considering he has been sending countless of letters. I heard he is well acquainted to Mr. and Mrs. Kim. In fact, I think they know nearly everyone in town.”

“I am not surprised considering Mrs. Kim Seulyi made her way into the elite lifestyle by marrying the well-known public notary, Kim Myungsoo. And Nam Woohyun was born into wealth, showcasing an exemplary image of the snobbish rich man I referred to earlier.”

“You discredit them too much. For all we know he could be trying to court you,” Rika suggested, and at the mention of a romantic involvement, had the other spin around with an expression of utter disgust.

“I would rather die than involve myself with the likes of him,” Hyunmi said, making the other laugh through her extreme reluctance. What an impossible thought it was, inviting severe nausea in the pit of her stomach. She had to distract herself with a more pleasant imagery. “Come, we must gather the others and head to the marketplace. Making a living is more important than getting drunk on fine wine and dancing silly ballroom routines.”

Before Rika had another say, the Mother of the orphanage, as they had grown accustomed to calling her, left her sight. Rika wished to change Hyunmi’s great distaste for the rich despite knowing none of the fellow orphans—including herself—would have a home to stay at if it weren’t for this hatred towards the gap. After the Jang siblings lost their parents to several high ranked soldiers during the Indian Rebellion back in 1857, they never stopped viewing social disparity as a public deficiency.

***

The orphanage consisted of nine people, including the Jang siblings who were gracious enough to open their doors for those who grew up on the streets. Poverty was the devil’s shadow, chasing those hiding under it with the storm of misfortune. Those who managed to escape may discover a slightly more improved lifestyle than their previous caste, though it was nowhere near the supremacy of aristocracy. At the orphanage, they weren’t expected to labor as servant girls or boys, but to stand as equals with the owners themselves. This was a system the siblings had invented; an ideal that would be ridiculed by the outside world.

Hyunmi and Rika were joined by Dongwoo, his main caretaker Jangjun, and also the eldest of the orphans, Daeyeol. Due to Dongwoo’s unstable mental condition, they required the two boys to come to his aid should several episodes occur. No one knew the name of Dongwoo’s illness, not even Hyunmi herself. For years she tried finding medical assistance for him, but upon sighting her low class dress, faced immediate rejection by doctors.

She grew up believing saving lives was a noble profession, but the more she matured, the more she realized it was about the money. Only the rich could afford treatment while the poor were left to death. Was it the rich’s treachery to diminish the number of the lower class people? It kindled a bigger hatred in her spirit.

“Lo and behold, the parentless children marching through our streets, dirtying the air with their insignificant existence,” said a woman sitting by the starting point of the street marketplace. Her words were meant as a whisper, but sharp words always came across louder than its delivery.

“Ignore them,” Daeyeol whispered. Being the taller of the bunch, he used his body as a blockade to erase those women from their vision. He nudged Hyunmi to keep walking to their spot and sell milk. In such way did they make a living: milking the cows. It was a tedious job, but it was the one of the treasures left behind by the Jang siblings’ late parents, the other being the country house.

“The owners of the orphanage are complete lunatics. Do you see the girl at the front? I heard she is nearing her thirties, and yet, hasn’t found herself a suitor. What will become of her? She will die a lonely old lady!” Another woman continued voicing opinions out loud.

Every passing second was a gruesome test of patience. Hyunmi felt the anger rising through her veins, but upon a sudden hold, calmed down instantly. It was Dongwoo, her beloved brother who despite his inability to articulate statements verbally, had a perfect grasp of the situation surrounding him.

“No,” was all he murmured, resembling a sheep separated from its flock. He wildly shook his head, almost seeming like he was possessed by evil spirits. But it was another recurring episode, one where he could no longer control kinetic movements and ended up with over excessive motions.

“Calm down,” Jangjun immediately spoke, holding the elder still as more desolant “no”s echoed through the air, each increasing in volume. He shushed Dongwoo like a baby, rubbing his back in soothing circles as people stared at the public spectacle.

“T-they’re coming,” Dongwoo suddenly yelled, and crouched down on his knees, shielding himself from an imaginary attack. He continuously rocked his body back and forth, like he was riding a broken boat on the riverside. Memories of that unfortunate night invaded his mind, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

“Brother,” Hyunmi passed her wooden basket to Rika, and knelt down before her terrified older brother. She clasped her hands around his, speaking in her softest voice. “They’re gone. They left. There is the light again, see?”

Dongwoo slowly tilted his head from his arms, following Hyunmi’s hand pointing towards the sun. A fervent light was perhaps the only ray of hope seen in a world consumed by complete darkness. Therefore, Dongwoo continued to hold unto it like a safehold, even if it was out of reach.

“They’re coming,” he murmured, but more as a whisper of reassurance towards himself. He held Jangjun and Hyunmi’s hand as they lifted him to his feet. He was no longer shaking in terror, not after the presence of the light.

Their returning peacefulness was interrupted by the high cackling of the gossiping women. They looked on with merry amusement. Such were the despicable nature of human beings; they chose to find fault in others to feel better about their own miserable existence.

“The very reason for her undesirability is her brother. No one would want to marry into a family harboring a retard!”

And that marked the departure of her patience. Hyunmi boldly approached the elderly women who would’ve been her mother’s age had she still been alive. One would expect wisdom to come with old age, but such lies were mere fairytales. The women succumbed in fear once the subject of their ridicule stood in front of them, unable to sek shelter by throwing harsh words from afar.

“The worst kind of people are those who badmouth others without taking a look at their own reflection. How dare you call my brother in such a foul manner when he is still purer than all of your corrupted hearts combined?” She started, an explosion waiting to happen once every bottled up thought released itself. Her fellow orphans knew better than to try and stop an enraged woman.

“And marriage? How could you possibly think such idea is worthy of exploring? A wife becomes the property of the husband; she will be stripped off her rights, her body, and her will. For what good should I desire such lifestyle? To become an old bitter lady who badmouth others such as yourselves?”

“Such are the lies of an undesirable woman, basked in the illusion of a belief to comfort herself,” another woman spoke up daringly. But after her delivery, she quickly buried her face behind the others.

“No, I stand firm with my belief. The fairness between men and women is as scarce as the equality between different social classes. I see no need to enslave myself to a man who could never see the true worth of a woman.”

“What an excellent speech!”

Hyunmi turned around at the sudden interruption of a foreign voice, finding a gentleman she could not recall having seen before. She was certain of it, because a visual as attractive as his would be difficult to forget. Upon a closer inspection of his outfit, the high quality satin material along with the jewelries gave away his position as an upper class man.

“You must be a bluestocking, then, I suppose,” the man continued, gracing them with a smile as radiant as the morning star.

“Bluestocking?” Jangjun questioned, staring at Daeyeol and Rika who both shrugged on confusion. Dongwoo was paying less attention on the content of the speech, more curious about the stranger himself.

“If it associates me as a woman who pursues intelligence over the dominion of a husband, then yes, I suppose I am,” Hyunmi replied with a proud smile. She heard the term being slurred around on the street and quite liked the sound of it. It simply referred to an intellectual woman.

“Curious how one might obtain such education when financial requirements can’t be met,” the man continued, the smile suddenly losing its radiance in her sight. He was blatantly mocking their social difference now.

“Yet, there are many other values in life which no monetary value can obtain. I believe it is a principle you wouldn’t be familiar with, sir,” Hyunmi spoke back, mirroring his taunting smile on her own lips.

He stood still for a moment, simply observing her in a manner a person would look at a thorny rose. “Indeed,” he continued, extending his hand to her. “I have heard many things about you Miss Hyunmi, and I had to come down myself to witness your irrational views. I am very pleased to make the acquaintance.”

Hyunmi knotted her eyebrows in confusion at his recognition, hesitantly reaching for a handshake. What a difference it was, the soft texture of a man who had never done manual labor his entire life compared to the roughness of a lower-class labor. She waited for him to take a handkerchief and wipe himself clean afterwards, but he didn’t.

“My name is Nam Woohyun.”

It was Rika who gasped instead, recognizing the name instantly. “He is the man who sent the letters,” she whispered in a high voice.

“What letters? How come I had no idea?” Jangjun questioned her.

“We have been receiving letters over the past few days. Mr. Nam Woohyun invited Mother and Dongwoo to go to one of Mrs. Kim’s parties!” Rika spoke, the excitement clear in her tone. Her volume allowed others to absorb the content of her speech.

“I was wondering whether a corresponding letter got lost among the mails; I never received a reply,” Woohyun began to speak up.

“I never wrote one,” Hyunmi said, feigning a smile. “If you are here to convince me regarding the event, I apologize, for I won’t attend. I do thank you for the kind gesture.”

With a small curtsy she was prepared to leave when he stepped sideways, directly obstructing her path.

“I am afraid I didn’t come here to get rejected, Miss Hyunmi,” he spoke, raising immediate interest from nearby onlookers. More people gathered, interested to see the presence of a noble man himself. Nam Woohyun’s name was famous for his wealth, and people worshipped him like a king. Who was a little insignificant servant girl to reject him?

“Your letter stated the need to speak with me and my brother. Why don’t you proceed with it now?” She suggested, trying her best to ignore people’s gossip and their condemning eyes.

“It isn’t a matter that can’t be discussed in public.”

“Then I am afraid you are only wasting your time. Good day, sir.”

She was ready to leave when he gently tapped her arm, a gesture considered indecent between non married couples. Hyunmi turned to him with the start of rising irritation.

“Do you speak on Mr. Jang’s behalf when you decline my invitation?” He suggested.

Hyunmi’s eyes lit up whenever her brother’s name was mentioned. She wished the entire world could see past his imperfections, and see the loving person he was deep inside. After their parents passed away, it was Dongwoo who took care for her. But the world was more interested in the physical and mental brokenness on display than the heartfelt possibility hidden inside.

“You may ask him yourself,” Hyunmi spoke, cueing Dongwoo to come over. She reached a hand out which her brother took with hesitant loose fingers, wrapping his entire hand around her index finger like a child seeking protection. “Mr. Nam, I introduce you to my brother, Jang Dongwoo.”

“What a pleasure to meet you.”

Woohyun never hesitated to shake his hand, even when Dongwoo chose to be mute, giving the guy a an odd look instead. He never chose to clean off his hands from the morbid low rank touch.

“I hope to see your presence at tomorrow’s event, Mr. Jang.”

Dongwoo had a blank look on his face, turning to his sister for answers. He held tighter unto her fingers, taking shield behind her.

“He prefers not to speak,” Hyunmi said. She watched the confusion settle on Woohyun’s face, expecting him to make silent judgements. But the frown of disgust never appeared.

“Ah, it seems I only have you to convince then,” he said, averting his gaze back to her.

How odd. It made her wonder how much of her hatred he deserved. But once he continued, she realized her sympathy came too early.

“It is understandable to feel embarrassment among the upper class guests, considering you must not be a proficient dancer or own a dress fancy enough for the occasion,” he trailed off in a low whisper.

Hyunmi’s mouth dropped open, turning her gaze to the man who worsened everything the more words he spewed out of his mouth. “You think I worry about such trivial matters?”

“Do you not? For what other reason could you reject this opportunity?”

Hyunmi was silenced. He posed an excellent question to which she did not know the answer of. Her reluctance stemmed off her great distaste for the rich, and to force herself to mingle with them until night time seemed a little foolish. Was it really her fear of ridicule? According to social standards, her existence itself was a trespass to multiple offenses: being poor, being female, and being an orphan.

“I won’t stop pursuing you until my partners and I have discussed an important matter with you. Now, I shall leave you to continue with...” he trailed off, looking at the basket in Rika’s hand, “Your endeavor to get by the day.”

Hyunmi folded her fingers into a fist, unable to accept his outward ignorance. Realization appeared to her like a blossoming epiphany. How can one change the world when choosing to hide behind the comfort of the status quo?

“I shall attend,” Hyunmi stated, stopping him in his track as he curiously turned to her. “I assure you, you shall bask in regret for having convinced me.”

“How I look forward to such appearance! Mrs. Kim’s party started to get boring without any new spectacle to witness. I shall count on you to humor me,” Woohyun said, pleased at his presumed victory.

“Humored you shall be, though I doubt you’ll be the one laughing.”

Woohyun smiled, wondering whether she had just threatened him. It did not matter to him, knowing she was incapable of the brutal act. A glance at her worried companions, and he knew she would prefer to talk out the matter than opting for violence.

“Well then, Mr. and Miss Jang, I look forward to seeing your presence tomorrow,” Woohyun said, giving a slight nod as a sign of polite gesture. It was very odd in itself since the rich saw the poor through an invisible lens; let alone be considered human enough to be treated as one.

What a curious young man, and even as he left, Hyunmi succumbed to an excitement of attending the party. A part of her could barely comprehend the thrilling desire, yet knew she would do something grand. There was no space for embarrassment when her existence itself was considered the biggest faux pas in people’s eye.

She would comply to their opinion.


	2. Party

The view perceived by a person on a higher level was always broader than one who had access to none. The mansion belonging to Mr. Kim Myungsoo was a two storey architecture located upon the hill, earning him a perspective that was far above the rest. From time to time, he would stand by the window of his private office, indulging in a scenerity that could bring solace upon a troubled heart.

Such was the heart of Woohyun as he stared out the window, his fingers rhythmically tapping the wooden sill as if playing the waltz. He watched carriages enter the property as guests exited the coach, each wearing their most expensive dresses, jewelries, and feathered hats to enthral a meretricious appearance.

“Do you suppose our guests shall appear?” Kim Sunggyu asked. Unlike the other, he was leaning against the desk, vacant of its usual occupant who had to entertain the guests. He took a cigar from his pocket, snatching a lighter to lit it up.

Woohyun watched the other blow a puff of smoke rings in front of him. “Are you doubting me, Sunggyu? You know there isn’t a person in town I can’t persuade,” he spoke proudly.

A chuckle appeared, and this time it came from the other side where Lee Sungyeol was seated at. “You musn’t forget, Woohyun was the one to seduced Mrs. Hwang into signing the contract for your latest business venture, Sunggyu.”

“You musn’t use the word ‘seduce,’ for it conjures me noxiously. I merely provided some lavish words she wished to hear, granting us a favorable outcome,” Woohyun corrected the other.

“Which is a notion you should be proud of. I owe half of my ventures to you.” Sunggyu raised the cigar between his fingers like a glass of wine.

“Your gratitude would be better received in the form of an increased share,” Woohyun suggested, smiling at the idea.

“Now, now. Greed is one of the deadly sins I do not wish you to be constricted with. You need to learn contentment,” Sunggyu said, exhaling smoke from his mouth. “However, if you manage to have the those two evacuate their house, I shall reconsider your proposal.”

Woohyun’s eyes lit up with interest. It was a strange desire he harbored in his heart. Money and fortune he had plenty of, and it wasn’t the commission he sought after. He was merely an investor, but Kim Sunggyu was infamous for his numerous properties and successful enterprises. If Woohyun harnessed greed within, it’d be a desire for acknowledgement as an accountable business partner—an equal to Sunggyu. To do so, he had to continue flattering their targets with sweet words to obtain advancement in his pursuits.

“Ah, speak of the devil,” he muttered, his eyes returning to the sight outside. He didn’t think his special guest would be able to acquire a coach for herself considering the destitute condition of the lower class, but she never ceased to surprise him in their short period of being acquainted.

He excused himself from his partners.

***

The atmosphere at the main hall was a stark contrast to the gloomy scene in the office. Guests were dancing, a small orchestra was playing, and one single lady made her unbefitting entrance. At the simple everyday appearance of a working class woman, the festive chatterings and dancing came to a cessation. People ahbored their meanest glare to the newcomer.

“What the deuce is this hideous sight?”

Hyunmi had mentally prepared herself for the insults she would receive, and the whispers behind her back. But she had never come face to face with someone as blunt as the hostess of the party, Mrs. Kim Seulyi herself.

“Are you the new kitchen maid? The entrance is at the back,” the woman urged. The numerous golden bracelets on her wrist rattled against each other as she motioned for Hyunmi to disappear from her sight.

“You mistake me for one of your servants,” Hyunmi uttered with a tone of disbelief, not knowing whether the situation should’ve been frustrating or amusing to her.

Seulyi pressed her lips together, her big round eyes scanning the other’s appearance with a quick glance. There was nothing extraordinary about her, except for the outfit contrasting the pinafore worn by her other maids. The colors were duller and less chic, and the details of the embroidery seemed to be stitched together using sloppy handiworks of a male. Either way, it wasn’t a very flattering imagery, and she gnawed at the sight.

“Why else would you appear here?” Seulyi regained her voice when her own observation could not adhere to the strange occurrence. Her eyes of wonderment soon reflected a look of silent judgement, knowing the guest did not belong.

“She is with me.”

The two ladies looked sideways to see the appearance of Nam Woohyun, greeting them both with a charming smile plastered on his face.

Hyunmi had not prepared herself to see the handsome young man in a fiery red blazer that resembled the amorous color of a rose petal. He stood out among the others for his sleek visual, like the focal point of a colorful painting. For a single second, the thought of her stubbornness seemed foolish and utterly embarrassing. Guests were still halted from their dance, showing more interest in she who made a statement wearing her lower class outfit. She was still the odd one out; the dirt staining the same magnificent artwork Woohyun represented.

“Ah, is this the guest you have spoken off? My, Woohyun, your taste must have deteriorated as time passes. You could have chosen any woman for yourself, and yet, you chose the lowest of the lowest,” Seulyi continued to speak, shaking her head with disapproval.

Hyunmi was almost numbed to such treatments by now. Simply because she decided not to wear baby powder all over her face, didn’t paint her lips bloody red, or dress herself in an outfit that could feed a family for a week, she was again seen as the defect. The rich had no regard for the poor, setting clear boundaries between the social castes.

“You speak of high class women as if they are so admirable, however, I have yet to meet one who shows the merit of a proper woman in terms of speech and conduct.” Came Hyunmi’s snarky remark, hidden behind the sweet smile only the upper class ladies were supposed to possess.

None was certain whether Seulyi had grasped the content of the reply. She was known as the fairest lady in the entire town, thus deserving the title as the public notary’s wife. However, she was not one of the brightest one around. Unable to help her husband with his work, she became a persona who hosted parties and dinners from time to time; the ideal angel in the house image that embodied the perfect wife model.

“Suit yourself. I shall be kind and let you experience the wealthy lifestyle you can’t be graced with elsewhere. I do enjoy hosting parties, so I guarantee you will find enjoyment in your penurious life.”

Seulyi turned to Woohyun and curtsied before taking her leave. Of course, Hyunmi was completely disregarded for Seulyi had already judged her far too unworthy to bid any farewells to.

Before Hyunmi had the chance to open her mouth, a hearty chuckle escaped Woohyun’s lips. He watched her stare of confusion, not stopping until she settled into a cold glare. One glance at Hyunmi’s outfit, and one could discern the ridicule of the situation. By coming plainly as she was instead of trying to blend among the other guests, she was indirectly mocking both castes.

“Pardon me. I recall your intention to humor me, and you have indeed succeeded,” he said, his lips still traced with a hint of his laughter. “Though, on the contrary of your belief, I do find enjoyment in this situation, thus enabling me to be filled with merry laughter.”

Watching him had the strange hypnotic effect, and she almost found her lips mirroring his smile if she hadn’t stopped it in time. “Are you embarrassed by the appearance of your guest?” She asked, in the hope her diversion would lead to a different emotion.

“Nonsense! You may have appeared in a worn out rag with ash smeared all over your face, and still, I would think you are more beautiful than any woman here who spent a fortune on their appearance.”

Woohyun paired his flatteries with a smile no one could resist. He watched the surprise on her face, not expecting anyone to address her beauty. Well, his flatteries were yielded like a weapon, complimenting his opponents into agreeable surrender. Most of it were empty words, unaligned with the thoughts of his heart. But upon a closer inspection of the woman in front, he found truth in his speech.

“Ah, so it is true. I have heard tales of you being a gal sneaker. You take pleasure in the art of seducing women,” Hyunmi spoke, folding her arms as she kept her stare on him in a challenge.

This made him laugh once again. “Worry not, Miss Hyunmi. If I had the intention of seducing anyone, I’d find a woman within my own league who is up to par with me.”

“How difficult it must be to find someone with the same level of arrogance,” she said, forcing a smile on her face. He was once again showing off his wealth, and she had no interest to entertain him with feigned chivalry.

“You think of me as arrogant? There are many who are more arrogant than I am.”

“Arrogance isn’t an entity you can measure. Either you are arrogant, or you aren’t. There is no higher or lower above the other.”

Woohyun squinted his eyes, fascinated by her strong point of view. She shifted everything he knew of and placed them into a perspective he had never considered. It almost sounded like new doctrines one can be taught of at church.

“Have you come alone, then, Miss Hyunmi? Where is your brother?”

“To protect him of the foul treatment he would receive here, we agreed it was safer for him to stay within the shelter of our home,” Hyunmi said. Some town people were aware of Dongwoo’s condition, how he’d rather stay mute when attempts to form a speech ended up in broken syllables. None had ever sympathized with him except for the ones at the orphanage. To others, he was a stranger who brought forth shame and disease to them.

The musicians began to play a new orchestratic piece, and the guests resumed into a commencing stance. The men stood in a long line opposite of the women, each bowing and curtseying in unison before taking each other’s hand.

“Miss Hyunmi, would you like to dance with me?” Woohyun posed a sudden question that was completely irrelevant to her purpose of coming. He watched her with a curious glint, which she could only interpret as one of mockery.

“I believe your partners and yourself had an important matter to discuss with me,” said she, blatantly rejecting his request.

“Such matters can be delayed. Do you not wish to experience the life of a class you could never attain?”

It was clear, at this point, that she could never form an agreeable opinion with him. He placed priorities within frivolous matters she wished not to occupy her mind with. Whereas she was a fastidious person who wanted matters to be taken care of swiftly. A word of ‘delay’ did not find its place in her carefully crafted hours.

“It seems my intention was mistaken. If there are no important matters to be discussed, I shall take my leave,” she spoke, ready to return to the orphanage if Woohyun hadn’t grabbed unto her arm.

“As expected. Your ego prevents you from admitting you do not know how to dance. For someone who continuously abhors the rich, it seems you are vehemently envious of a richness you do not possess.”

Hyunmi stayed quiet, though the glare she emitted to him was galled in every way. He offered an interesting possibility, but her pride refused to consider it.

“Before you leave, I shall take you to meet my partners. Come,” he offered an arm which she examined through her peering glare. “If you wish to trail after me like a dog, people would mistake you for a servant maid. You are still my guest; I do not wish for such opinions to form.”

The man was able to raise curiosity regarding his character. He embraced his upperclass status and spoke of the poor with such insolence, but after a passing second, displayed a gallant character one wishes to admire. The two contradicting behavior made it unable to form an opinion of him.

With hesitation, Hyunmi obeyed and linked her arm around his. He, once again, showed no disgust towards a physical contact with the poor. She was certain half of the people in the main hall would cry in need of a bath if she shook their hand. Even as she walked by his side, people casted condemning stares. What an unlikely pair, mismatched in every way, yet finding themselves chained to one another’s disposition.

He led the way to a far door at the second floor, opening it to reveal a gloomy room surrounded by clouds of smoke. She observed a man rolling up a cigar, and another tall man sitting behind the work desk. Both looked up at the door’s creaking, spotting the main character they had been waiting for.

“Miss Jang Hyunmi, how pleasant of you to join us. I am sure you must have heard of me,” said the one blowing smoke.

The smell was disturbing, and Hyunmi surrendered from trying to hold in her breath. She studied his neat appearance, the confident glint piercing through his small eyes, but recognized no such person. “I am afraid I haven‘t, sir,” said she, wondering whether arrogance infiltrated the heart of every wealthy man.

“My name is Kim Sunggyu, an entrepreneur who has had many successful ventures set up around town. It is an ideal I shall not stop seeking, for I must discover the greatest possibilities waiting to be found,” he boasted about himself, twirling his fingers in the air to dust away the remaining traces of smoke.

At this point, Hyunmi observed a standardized behavior as it was supposed to be. The introduction came without a formal gesture. This was how the rich tend to act; treating the poor no higher than an animal when a handshake was as filthy as touching a rabid stray dog.

Woohyun took a chair, prompting her to sit. She became a direct subject to Sunggyu’s questioning. Odd how Woohyun seemed to be the only person displaying the closest act of kindness, and she wondered whether he harbored any hidden intentions.

“Meet Lee Sungyeol, the owner of the town’s national bank. Though, pardon my inquisitive behavior, but I happen to know you have never stored your wealth at the bank,” Sunggyu continued to speak.

“Why should I need to do so when I have nothing of value to store into it?” she replied with an indignant smile.

“You are a smart woman, Miss Jang. I would like to make a business proposal to you—one you may consider a lifetime investment,” Sunggyu said, a malign smirk darkening his feature. “You possess a country house, correct?”

Hyunmi’s heart filled with unease, suddenly rethinking her decision of coming to the party. She instinctively glanced at Woohyun, searching for a clue of treachery, or of assurance.

“You own a house that belonged to your late parents before they were murdered during the Indian Rebellion in 1857. Since then, the property has been transferred under the ownership of the eldest son, Jang Dongwoo,” Sungyeol provided more detail, reading from a confidential document in his hand.

“How did you obtain such private matters?” Hyunmi asked, raising up from her seat, but getting pushed back down just as quick by Sungyeol.

“We are friends with Kim Myungsoo. It is by no surprise that we have access to every little detail of your history,” Sungyeol chimed, swaying the papers in his hand in a playful manner.

The wealthy continued to display repulsive behavior, abusing grace and authority whenever possible. Kim Myungsoo as the public notary should’ve been a noble man who stood at the side of justice. He ought to display an allegiance to neutrality—how could he easily give up personal information? Did they bribe him a sum of money, or did it come at the cost of a mutual friendship? The world was about to meet its doom!

“Now listen carefully to my proposal,” Sunggyu said, taking slow steps until he stood in front of her, crouching down to be at the same eye level. He inhaled from the cigar, blowing the smoke right unto her face, remaining stoic and indifferent as she coughed the lingering smell away.

“Your property is built upon a large acre of land I require for my next construction project. I want to demolish the house and build a property in its stead.”

“Demolish the house?” Hyunmi repeated, panic creating an upheaval within her. “When my parents passed away, this was the only treasure they left. You can’t possibly think of destroying it!”

“I understand the emotional attachment you may feel towards it. However, we are willing to offer a compromise that could feed you and your brother for the rest of your sullen days. Consider it a lifetime investment.”

“There are children living there, seven of them. What will become of them?” She cried woefully.

“You see, Nam Woohyun is an investor, and money shan’t be an issue. Paying off your lifelong expense in itself is an investment towards my new project,” Sunggyu said, continuing to exhale smoke into her direction. He spoke this without looking at Woohyun, without noticing the sinking frown of confusion on his friend’s face who silently wondered when such matters were discussed without his consent.

“I apologize. That is one request I cannot grant. No monetary assurance can replace the treasure gifted by someone dear,” Hyunmi chimed, never as determined and certain as she was that very second. With another ounce of bravery, she got to her feet, ignoring the three men who kept their hard gaze on her.

“It seems I have only wasted your time. I will take my leave now.”

“Miss Hyunmi, wait—“

“Let her go.” Sunggyu stopped Woohyun from chasing the girl. Instead of the failure laid out before him, he saw an opportunity in the future. The rejection did not dissuade him, instead, brewed a bigger desire to attain success.

“The property is under her brother’s name, isn’t it?” He reconfirmed.

“Yes, as stated in the paperworks,” Sungyeol spoke, eyes scanning the documents he scattered across the desk.

“Well then, all we need to do is ensure her brother signs the contract. It shouldn’t be a tedious task, considering he is a retard,” Sunggyu continued, his tone emphasizing on the brother’s poor mental condition.

“Retard is too strong of a word. He seemed to be a man of good character,” Woohyun said. Upon receiving a cold glare from Sunggyu, he retracted like a wilted flower.

“Are you acquainted to him? You must go there and speak to him directly. Get him to sign the contract, even if it is by means of trickery,” Sunggyu prompted, to which Sungyeol eagerly nodded his head to. Something about foul play always excited him.

“But he rarely goes out. She said so herself. Her brother is kept inside the house to avoid society’s judgements,” Woohyun argued.

“Then you must find a way in. Stay at the country house yourself, and work your talent. You could even help me survey the place,” Sunggyu said, smirking in delight when envisioning his new property. “And when you succeed, I shall increase your shares to a fifty-fifty ratio.”

This was an opportunity he could not resist, knowing he could finally earn the acknowledgement he had been craving for. He could stop being an investor and start being involved with the project planning procedures. All he had to do was stay at the country house, and convince the siblings.

“Alright, I shall do it,” he said determined.

How hard could it be?


	3. Visit

The sense of acrimony seemed to expand upon every encounter with the wealthy men. Why would they assume the house’s value could be translated into a monetary one? It pertained a meaning no tangible treasure of the world could ever amount to. Money was no solution to every problem.

Hyunmi stormed into the house, closing the door in a polite manner despite the fury damaging the walls of her shielded heart. She considered keeping the clandestine meeting private, but the intention dissipated when she walked into the living room and found the others. At her entrance, every individual activities ceased and merged into one singular interest.

“Oh, you have returned! Please, you must tell us about the party.” Rika was the first to come running, abandoning the heat from the fireplace she cozied herself at. She clasped the elder’s hands in her own, feeling it tremor with the coldness of winter, which did not reason with the warmth of her skin—another incident must’ve caused her trembling.

“Why did they request to meet you?” Daeyeol questioned with big eyes of curiosity.

Hyunmi had been reluctant to discuss the matter publicly, not even to her brother. However, Dongwoo deserved to know the contents of the encounter. The house was signed under his name. He stared at her with question marks protruding from his eyes, his head tilted sideways as if the answer could be seen from a slanted perspective. Hyunmi had no choice but to relay the truth.

“They wanted to purchase this house,” Hyunmi answered, and immediately retracted a step backward when all shouts of protests appeared as roaring thunders bursting a clear sky open.

“You can’t let them!” Jangjun’s voice loudly chimed above the other protestors, and only then did their complaints fade out.

“Will we live on the street, mother?” Donghyun asked being one of the youngest ones at the orphanage. Innocence painted his face, displaying his trembled lips as he turned to face others with remorse.

“Of course not,” Hyunmi said, releasing herself from Rika to go embrace the boy. She was always most fond of Donghyun, which anyone would interpret as motherly affection. The orphans addressed her as mother, but it bore genuine meaning when Donghyun educed it. Years ago, the siblings found a small infant abandoned near the bank of a river, failed to be drowned to death by parents who abandoned morality to seek personal comfort. Hyunmi practically raised the boy until whom he was today.

“You... No... Sell?” Dongwoo’s mumbling garnered their attention. Because he couldn’t say the words properly, he conveyed using body movements and vigorously shook his head.

“This house is the only memoir left of our parents. To give this house up would be no different from surrendering our parents to the hands of a stranger. I refused immediately,” Hyunmi said, proud to have made her stance. She took their cheer as a sign of triumph.

“You did well, mother. We would have made you change your mind were you to agree,” Joochan said, leisurely laying on the sofa with a small guitar nestled between his arms. His fingers plucked a gentle tune that brought forth a jubilant notion, filling their hearts with ecstacy.

“I would have chopped their fingers off if they were to force you into a one sided opinion,” Youngtaek added, motioning the quick movements with his arms. It made Jangjun cackle whereas Rika’s eyes widened in horror. Oh, the image.

Youngtaek had always been one of the more violent ones, often getting in trouble for joining a fight. It was never his fault, however, since the other party purposely provoked the blame on him. The boy was too naive to see he had been thwarted with and complied to their taunts.

“You could get arrested,” Sungyoon remarked, though he also found amusement in Youngtaek’s empty threats. Being the second oldest of the orphans, he should’ve been more subjective about the causes he supported. Yet, he was easily swayed by differing opinions, such as this.

“Hardly. I am too agile for them to chase after,” Youngtaek said confidently, making sure to observe Hyunmi’s reaction. She was smiling along with the others, which could only indicate a good sign. Nothing brought him more joy than to elevate himself as her potential suitor, despite their wide age gap.

“So they shall no longer bother us?” Daeyeol reconfirmed the situation, releasing a heavy burden from his chest. All day he had been worried, feeling more inferior considering his attendance at the party was forbidden. He had little trust in those upper class people, though it wasn’t as cynical as the ill feelings Hyunmi cultivated.

“I believe so. I stated I wouldn’t sell the house even when their fortunes were set before us.” Hyunmi folded her hands with a great sense of supremacy. An accomplishment harbored in her heart, satisfied at her short term moment of bravery.

However, their happiness were called unto too soon, for before the second triumphant cheer, a knock on the door disrupted their celebration. Their country house was isolated enough from the main town and never received any visitors. Once Hyunmi answered the door, a stranger occurrence appeared.

“Good day, Miss Hyunmi,” came Woohyun’s greeting, lightly nodding in acknowledgement of her.

Hyunmi was too perplexed to form a curtsy in reply. Compared to the ephemeral joy, there was a caprice of panic now. Will these shady entrepreneurs continue to threaten her until she begged for her surrender? Albeit nothing about Woohyun's charming’s face contained a hint of malice. It radiated, instead, with an expression she almost believed was genuinely curious.

After a moment, she regained her ability to speak, swallowing once before stammering like a schoolgirl fancying a boy, though such was not the case. “W-why have you come here, sir?”

“You know very well why I’m here, don’t you? A bluestocking woman would possess the intelligence to derive a conclusion for my visit,” Woohyun spoke in his imperious manner, which she had come to observe of him. Simply because she had told him of her ideals, he wielded it with derision. He seemed to take delight in tantalizing her pursuit for wisdom.

“I suppose you wanted to find out whether or not you could mount a cow the way people ride a horse, to which the answer of is no, sir,” she replied with a small hint of a grin. What a nonsensical answer it was, and yet, perfect enough to steer the conversation away from the house.

To her surprise, Woohyun laughed at her humor, calming down as the smile reassembled on his handsome face. “You know how to jest. How delightful. I don’t think I shall ever tire of you.”

It was unfair. He could not speak such tender words using affectionate eyes that stared at her as if they were equals. Reality proved such illusions wrong. She mentally reminded herself of his reputation as a renowned seducer, biting her cheeks to prevent a smile from forming. She was supposed to want him gone.

“You should not worry about such matters. I have no intention of meeting you or your partners ever again,” she said sternly, forcing herself to form conviction in her own speech.

“Oh, but this is the part where you’re mistaken, Miss Hyunmi,” Woohyun said, stretching his lips into a wider grin, displaying such confidence when stepping closer towards her. His taller frame towered over her petite one, though both showed burning emulation when neither refused to step back. “I have come with a new proposal.”

“How many proposals do you intend on making?”

“Enough to win the lady’s heart.”

By now, Hyunmi realized how dangerous he could be, possessing a weapon no woman could resist. A mere smile had women fall on their knees in worship, let alone a statement that could imply various meanings. She hadn’t realized her lips curved along into a smile mirroring his, but upon realizing her error, replaced it with a cold glare.

“I have no intention of selling this house. Even if I die, my ghost shall continue to watch over this place,” she said determinedly, trying to threaten him with fear, but ended up making him laugh once again. She didn’t even intend to humor him this time.

“How convenient. Your husband could freely visit this house if he were to long for you even after your departure to be by God’s side.”

“Except that I am not too fond of the idea of marriage.”

This surprised Woohyun and the smile froze on his lips, nearly falling out of shape. “Well, perhaps that is a problem I could help you with at another time. However, I would like to focus on the proposal first.”

She watched him retrieve several documents from his bag, showing it in front of her face. By this time, the rest of the tenants had gathered by the living room entrance, trying to be as discreet as possible despite already being spotted by Woohyun.

He cleared his throat, averting his gaze back to the woman in front of him. Her eyes swiftfully skimmed through the words of the contract, and already he could tell she was an avid reader. He intended on saving her the trouble by revealing the contract’s main subject, but she took greater pleasure in reading them herself. He carried on, nonetheless.

“It suggests that I stay at this house as a tenant.”

The request was so absurd even the orphans elicited loud gasps and murmured a discussion amongst themselves. But Hyunmi’s mind had been jumbled with, so petrified she still hadn’t notice their thunderous presence. She lowered the paperwork, staring at him in bewilderment.

“Why would you be willing to leave behind the riches of your upper class world and live in a low class estate?” She blatantly rearranged the words as it was, feeling more confusion flood over her when reality was enunciated out loud. The idea was simply absurd.

“My partners and I have come to an agreement that I should… observe the house. You mentioned about the orphans residing here; I would like to get acquainted with each of them. Perhaps I may gain an insight; understanding your reason for holding this place dear to your heart,” he said, looking past the woman at the ones hiding behind the door entrance. At the direct eye contact, some attempted to erase their presence from his memory by hiding, while others tripped over the carpet or stayed completely still. It made him chuckle.

“Knowing their personality quirks allows you to match them with foster parents were they to evacuate the house, courtesy of the purchase,” she spoke, seeing through his true intention. Him coming here was suspicious in itself, and she could hardly fathom a different purpose than the one she mentioned.

“Don’t be quick to make harsh judgements, miss. You would only seem foolish if you were proven wrong,” he commented on her cynicism, showing a great virtue of patience himself.

“Or be praised as a sybil if such predictions were to take shape in reality.”

“How could you speak of such sorcery with ease when the society is measured by its moral piety?”

Hyunmi squinted her eyes at his contradiction, wondering whether every wealthy men were as dense as he was. “If you wish to talk about Christian principles taught at church, the highest commandment is to love one another as you love yourself. So why does a disparity create an impenetrable border between the rich and the poor? The rich treats the lower class no different from dogs.”

“It isn’t a question I could deliver a satisfactory answer to. However, I have never consented human beings as animals. I shall treat you all the same, despite having climbed up the social ladder through my hard earned efforts,” Woohyun spoke, smiling in a way that irritated her more than it charmed her.

“You do not work hard, Mr. Nam. You were born into wealth. The rich are not familiar with the concept or working hard.”

“Again, such judgements! A lady should not be quick to dispose her own opinions, especially when they could be mistaken in a negative notion.”

“You make no mistake, sir. It wasn’t intended as a flattering compliment.”

Woohyun was momentarily silenced, seeing the kindred spirit of a warrior in her eyes. He realized she was different from other females he had previously dealt with. After blabbering nonsensical lines as sweet sounding as honeyed melody, they were more than willing to offer their heritage. Alternatively, women were materialistic creatures invaded by the greed for money. He only had to spend a large portion of his wealth, and woman once again surrendered at his feet. Neither of his usual method seemed to comply on this particular woman.

“You misinterpret my good intention. I could reason with my partners to withdraw their claims for this land,” he began, seeing a flickering change in her glint. For a reason he was unaware of, the land bore an intrinsic value she would not surrender. But he hadn’t appeared unprepared, and tested her reactions to seek little openings that could gain her curiosity.

“How?” She questioned, providing him a medium to begin his persuasion.

“If you let me stay here, you could personally show me the reason for your fond affection towards this house. I shall then convince my partners to change their mind and abandon their resolve,” he said.

Hyunmi seemed to consider the idea, humming in low resonance to weigh both sides of the decision. She was willing to take grand risks in order to protect the house. So far, Woohyun had displayed a frail behavior which did not threaten her the way Kim Sunggyu and Lee Sungyeol breathed their cigarettes in her face. In fact, he had been most gentle of all—the manner in which he shook Dongwoo’s hands without disgust left a lasting impression in her heart. He readily held her arm through Mrs. Kim Seulyi’s party at the expense of possible ridicule by other guests. It softened her balk heart into his favor.

“I shall not agree to this nonsense!” A voice shouted from the back, belonging to the tall and lean boy, none other than Youngtaek. “Hyunmi, you musn’t allow his stay. He has eyes of deceit and lips that can only utter malice. He is the personification of the devil himself!”

“Hush, Youngtaek!” She turned around to shut the boy, clasping her hand in front of his lips. “Who taught you to speak in such an ill mannered way? You musn’t liken people to the devil. Never.”

“I dare speak in any way I please, and I see no reason to restrain myself from mocking the rich. He could be trying to deceive you, Hyunmi!”

“First you insult the rich, then you insolently addresses mother by her name. You show trespass after trespass,” Jangjun chimed, humming his accusation with a singsong voice.

“I refuse to call her mother, and you very well know the reason why!” Youngtaek insisted, his face flushing red with either fury or coyness.

“We have a guest. We must maintain a phlegmatic side,” Rika reminded them, holding both boys by their collars as means of reprimanding them. Had they no shame? She wondered what the wealthy man thought of them. To her and everyone else’s surprise, he answered her inner question with a hearty laugh.

“Oh, please, you must let me stay,” he pleaded, staring curiously at the orphans. “I can hardly wait to get acquainted with such vivacious personalities.”

As curious as he was about the orphans, Hyunmi stored an undeniable curiosity towards him. Nam Woohyun continued to show weird attributes to his character, showing an odd acceptance to their lifestyle despite displaying his arrogance. She had yet to determine whether or not he was a good person.

“I shall add an offer you cannot resist,” Woohyun interrupted her thoughts, sparking a bigger mystery when the charming smile returned on his face. It displayed zero fault, but the flawlessness of a man whose luck placed him in the upper class.

“Do speak,” she reiterated, feigning a cold front when in fact, she anticipated his reply.

“I do not wish to be a freeloader, and as my token of gratitude, I shall pay double the amount a regular tenant should be charged with,” Woohyun spoke. Again, he used money as a last resort to tilt opinions into his favors. By the gasps and wide eyed expressions of the orphans, he knew he had lured them.

Before Hyunmi had a chance to reply, it was Dongwoo who stepped out the front door. With no regards to their status, he grabbed Woohyun’s hands, firmly holding it in his grip.

“You stay,” were the two little words he spoke that would lead to a big change.

“But brother, we can’t—”

She resolved her speech when Dongwoo turned to her with stern eyes of authority. “He stay,” he repeated once more, pointing at the visitor who seemed more than happy at his victory.

Despite Dongwoo’s disability, his brain functioned like any other person’s. His episodes occurred at random intervals, and no one knew when he would start seeing the army men march in his illusionary replay of the horrible night. Other than his impaired speech ability, he still bore the authority as the alpha of the house, having a decision power not even Hyunmi could argue against.

The orphans showed a mixture of reaction, some curious to see the way a rich man would adapt to a different lifestyle, while some wanted him gone the moment he set foot inside, and others bore hope in keeping the country house itself.

“Come,” Dongwoo continued speaking in monosyllabic vocabularies, motioning the new tenant to follow him into the house and up the stairs.

Woohyun surprised them once again, stepping sideways to retrieve the baggage he had prepared with him since the beginning.

At the ridiculous sight, Hyunmi finally resolved her will to hold in her laughter and scoffed at him. “You wouldn’t have taken no for an answer,” she remarked in realization.

“Indeed. I had no plans of returning to my mansion,” he said, stopping right in front of her. He leaned closer to deliver a furtive whisper into her ear. “Besides, I was looking forward to seeing you every single day.”

Hyunmi swiftly jerked away from him, seeing his lips curve in a way that accentuated the fine features of his face. His mere speech, as silly as it was, managed to cause a small uproar in her heart. This was rather unexpected and uncalled for. He was a gal sneaker, one with an infamous reputation. She had to imply wisdom for every interaction with him. She did her best to subdue the changing emotions by pressing her lips together.

The changes and little quirks did not go unnoticed as Woohyun passed her, following Dongwoo who led the way upstairs. Though she was out of his sight, it was an image he would replay in his head over and over again—a reminder that she may not have been too different after all and could therefore fall victim to his coquettish behavior.

“Allow me to help,” Daeyeol spoke, displaying polite mannerism. He held his hand out in a courteous manner.

“It’s quite alright. I do not wish to tire you with my possessions. You may go and take a rest instead,” Woohyun said, displaying incredible form of compassion and sympathy. The usual wealthy individual would appoint anyone at their disposition, even a random passerby, to carry their tiny pouch. How refreshing it was to see someone consider others’ wellbeing—to see others as equals instead of categorizing them by their caste.

And being the intelligent man Nam Woohyun was, he was well aware of the changes he would bring into the house with him. They would observe him like a caged animal, and therefore he had to showcase his best behavior to earn their favor. His main reason for residing at the house, after all, was to convince Dongwoo and Hyunmi into signing the contract agreement. He would go to far extremes to help his business partners out.

Even if he had to obtain one’s heart only to break it in the end, he would do it.


	4. Tenant

The one richness acclaimed to the poor was their overflowing hospitality bestowed upon anyone with no regards of gender or class. Of course, such claims could not be made of the entire lower class population, but it was an enigma Woohyun came to observe in this household.

Dongwoo mumbled some unintelligible murmurs, pointing at the corner of a room he had just entered. He seemed to be making instructions, and Woohyun could only attempt to decipher it.

“Is this the place where I shall stay?” He questioned, to which Dongwoo gaily nodded his head at.

“Bed,” he muttered, pointing at the wooden furniture placed against the back wall of the room. The wide grin plastered his face, demanding a course of action which the rich man had to guess once again.

Woohyun placed his belongings at the corner it was previously appointed to and looked around the chamber. Its size was as big as the servant’s lair back in his mansion, which wasn’t nearly half the size of his individual room. The wooden floor creaked with every step, and the oddly colored olive green wallpaper were losing its hold against the wall, nearly falling off like a flimsy leaf. The bed was clothed in nude, neither a blanket or cover protected it from the dust it accumulated. In such a place, he had to stay for however long it would take to convince the two owners.

“Bed,” Dongwoo repeated his mumblings, his finger still lifted towards it, though his speech lacked any clue or further instruction of its appraisal.

“I am grateful for your assistance. If this is the room where I shall reside from here onwards, I wish to be granted some time to tidy it a little,” Woohyun spoke, flashing a polite smile to the owner of the house. But the other seemed reluctant to leave, continuing to stand with his arm stretched out towards the bed, but his lips shut tight. What a mysterious man with actions equally mysterious to decrypt.

To his relief, he heard another pair of footsteps approach the room. He had nothing against Dongwoo, neither did he see him in a bad shade, but the inability to communicate effectively decapitated him. His boundless charms and eloquent speech were the things he equipped himself with to win favors. When such methods were rendered ineffective, he felt inferior and frail.

“Alas, there you are! I expected you to come down as soon as you showed him the room,” Jangjun called, grabbing on to Dongwoo’s arm who kept shifting his gaze back to the furniture.

“Bed,” the elder spoke again, this time with a child-like tone that bore no resemblance to the authority he had imposed earlier.

Woohyun carefully studied the look on the other boy’s face who seemed far younger than Dongwoo was. It only took him one glance to fully understand what the elder meant to communicate.

“Don’t worry. Rika is retrieving the necessities to cover the bed with,” Jangjun said, using a tone laced with such gentleness that caused Dongwoo to eventually lower his arm to rest.

“Incredible! Are you able to directly translate all of his gestures and monosyllabic speeches?” Woohyun asked with utter amazement. If he had plans of convincing Dongwoo, he had to learn an effective communication method and break the barrier of the mental illness.

Jangjun stared at the newcomer strangely. “Yes, indeed,” he answered in a casual manner. It was as if the ability to decipher Dongwoo was a rare entity to come by, and he had been lucky enough to capture it.

“Please, you must teach me. How could I obtain such understanding?”

“Oh, it cannot be taught by lessons, Mr. Nam. The key to understanding a person’s character is to unlimit your time together. Only then can you form the relationship you inquired,” Jangjun told him with a small chuckle, remarking a friendly and humble reply despite having shown some authority.

As Woohyun continued to marvel at the speech and sought of ways to spend time with Dongwoo, another tenant approached the room. He recognized her as the only other female present in the house beside Hyunmi herself.

“You should get yourself ready. Dinner is about to be served,” Rika told Jangjun, moving her body to nudge his arms.

Jangjun wasted no second when he saw the heap of pillows and a neatly folded blanket in her hand. He was quick to leave Dongwoo on his own, overtaking the items from the girl’s hand.

“I shall assist you first,” he insisted as he finished the exchange, allowing Rika more freedom to move without the burden upon her hand.

“Thank you, Jangjun, but I am perfectly capable of carrying those. You do not want to infuriate mother with your tardiness. You know she despises those the most,” Rika reminded him teasingly.

“She tolerates it knowing my intention to help you,” Jangjun insisted, shoving the bed sheet and pillows unto Dongwoo’s hand. He then proceeded to tilt the bed mattress over, allowing Rika easier access to dust the bed off.

Woohyun was quiet as he observed the pair. He recognized the look in Jangjun’s eyes, certain he recalled a similar portrait. The gaze which sought the countenance of its beloved, finding comfort when it laid sight upon the woman with him. It twinkled so brightly against the darkening sky, as if the other’s presence was the only attribute needed to brighten up his days.

Ah, he remembered seeing it in Kim Myungsoo’s gaze, months before he braved himself in courting his soon-to-be bride at that time. It was a look of loving promises and fond attraction; a look he could not imitate without a genuine intention. Jangjun fancied this girl, and Woohyun made a mental note should a future need arise for this information.

“You address Miss Hyunmi as your mother; are you all her children?” He sought another topic, trying to prey for information in the hope to formulate a battle strategy.

“Yes and no, sir,” Rika answered, instructing Jangjun to lay the mattress out as he helped her unfold the bedsheets. “She is the owner of this orphanage which we prefer to call our home. Dongwoo and she provided shelter for us when no one else in the world regarded us. They saw the good in us when others saw inferiority. She cares for us and love us in a way our real parents couldn’t. Therefore, she is deserving of the title as a mother, don’t you suppose so?”

“Such a gentle spirit surely must’ve been courted by many men before. Had she ever had a suitor?” He continued asking. His voice took on a natural high pitch of curiosity, almost deceiving himself of his feigned interest.

“Why no, sir! Never.”

“Never?”

“Never. The townspeople take joy in spreading gossip, creating false rumors about—” She halted her speech here, swiftly turning to Jangjun and Dongwoo with her hands rested against her hips. “You must leave this room now. I don’t want mother to lose her temper in front of our new tenant. Go, now!”

Jangjun casted a glare at Woohyun, clearly worried about leaving Rika in a room alone with a strange man. He recognized her cue, wanting to initiate a tête-à-tête conversation with the new tenant. So as not to anger her, he obeyed her wishes.

“Where was I left off with my tale? Ah, yes, the townspeople spread rumors about Dongwoo’s illness. Since then, no one tried seeking her solace,” she stopped again, but not for long as her head jolted up towards him. “Sir, you have seen her foul temper and valiant attitude. She isn’t fond of marriage, which she refers to as a bondage stripping her off her rights. Any potential suitor is turned away and no one dared a second trial.”

“All those men must’ve been such fools. The rarest pearl can only be obtained through many tribulations and hardships. What value would it bear if it were easily swept off?”

Rika nearly dropped the pillow she was rearranging, turning to the good man with a stretching smile. “Sir, you must confess to me, right this instant. Do you have ulterior motives staying here? Do you intend to court mother?”

“Indeed,” the word escaped his lips before his mind could formulate a plan or come up with a proper explanation. But such was not necessary when Rika started twirling in joy, the hands clasped together, bedsheets and pillows long forgotten.

“I have known it ever since the moment you sent those letters. Your persistence is truly admirable, sir, and I promise to be of service to you. Whatever you require to court her, I shall gleefully attend to your needs.”

It was an outcome he did not expect, but hardly found a reason to protest against. In fact, it may just aid him in his mission to obtain the signature. If he were to really make Hyunmi fall madly in love with himself, he could simply command her to surrender the house to him. Either way, the misunderstanding served as a great confidant.

“Now you must go down after you have settled yourself, sir. To win her heart, you should never abuse the grace of time.”

Rika dusted the bed once more, all ready and prepared to welcome the new owner into its embrace. Rika then curtsied to him and disappeared from the room.

***

Once Woohyun returned downstairs, he followed the trail of noisy chatters, following the light that stemmed off from the dining room. It was a big spacious area confined by wooden walls, connected to the kitchen where he recognized a familiar figure. The orphans he had seen peeking at him before were all seated at the table, and he counted eight of them. Nine with their ‘mother’ included.

“Oh sir, you have come! Please take a seat,” Rika called out to him with great excitement, which made Jangjun stare up quizzically, wondering what sort of exchange had taken place to produce such a blissful response.

Rika started gallivanting around the dining table, pulling out a seat where she insisted the fine gentleman should be seated at. Of course, she had meant for him to sit beside the woman after his own heart.

“Thank you,” Woohyun said. As soon as he was seated, he noticed all eyes staring at him. The guy named Youngtaek seemed to produce a glare so vicious he might have intended to make him disappear. The other boys stared with full curiosity, observing a rare entity they had never seen before.

“Don’t stare too much, he is only human. Any unnecessary attention will only elevate his arrogance,” Hyunmi’s voice broke their endless staring. She placed a great pot of potato soup in front of them, and then turned to Woohyun with a distant expression. “I do not know your intention or motive,” to which Rika giggled at, “but a delicacy cannot be expected in this house.”

He smiled warmly, contrasting her cold look. “I do not require the most expensive of ingredients. A meal prepared by the hands of a lovely lady would sweeten even the bitterest taste,” he said, carefully observing her reaction. She arched her eyebrows, but he noted a hint of bashfulness warming her cheeks.

“What a puzzle you are, sir. Days ago you mockingly wished us luck in our endeavor to get by the day, whereas today, you show such acceptance to blend in with our misfortunate condition.”

“Ah,” Woohyun hummed, turning to her with a charming smile. He rested his arm against the table, propping his head against it. “And which reaction do you prefer?”

“Neither, sir. I much rather have you disappear from my sight,” Hyunmi answered, not allowing his handsome features to affect her. Even if he weren't handsome, there was a magnetizing hold about his gaze that reeled her into an abyss she couldn’t escape from. She had to deflect it.

“That is a fair opinion, but I am determined to change it. By the time I am planning my departure, you shall beckon me to stay.”

“Ha! Such confidence! I anticipate the day where you shall be proven wrong, and only shame shall follow the trail of your absence,” she said, obviously mocking his prediction. “Now, remove your arm from the dining table. It isn’t a proper dining etiquette.”

“Yes, m’am.” Woohyun obeyed her commands, intrigued by the challenge she had extended to him. Her knowledge of basics table manners surprised him, which was quite unexpected of someone her class. Even more surprising was his submission to her authority as the mother of the orphanage.

The other orphans averted their gaze between the two, unsure what to make of the situation. Some exchanged anxious looks with each other, wondering whether plates would get thrown around. Rika, on the other hand, was swooning at the interaction.

“Let us start our meal,” Daeyeol quickly interjected, wishing to resume the peace in the room before another potential feud. Being the next in command after Hyunmi and Dongwoo, he proceeded to scoop a bowl for the new tenant and proceeded to make small talks. “Do you cook, Mr. Nam?”

“What a ridiculous statement! Of course he doesn’t. Rich men are not bestowed with such knowledge,” Hyunmi uttered scornfully, even adding a sneer at the thought alone.

“Again, I shall have to prove you otherwise. I am quite a decent cook.”

“Such lies cannot be believed until I have witnessed it with my own eyes.”

“Do you not have any faith in God? You believe in a greater being without ever having laid eyes on Him.”

“I believe in my God by faith. However, you are mere human, and therefore undeserving of my faith.”

Woohyun chuckled at her answers. How delightful it was to be conversing with someone who wouldn’t constantly submit to his words. All the women he had ever engaged with tried too hard at pleasing him, stiffening when they spotted an error in their conduct, and ended up crying exorbitant tears when they presumed they had bored him. Through it, he never got to see their true characters, only a facade of the best representations of themselves. But with her, there were no attempts to win his affections using tender words or musing coyness. Oh, her speech was far from gentle, and yet so amusing to counter. She was guilty of all the attributes a proper high class lady should not possess, and yet, he hardly found fault with it.

“Let us come before God in prayer before we eat our meal. Mr. Nam, could you lead us in saying our grace?” Daeyeol suggested, after he managed to pour soup in everyone’s bowl during the time of their feud.

“It would be my pleasure!” Woohyun exclaimed, folding his hands as everyone followed. He stared at Hyunmi once, noticing she was greatly observing him before closing her eyes. He was determined to move her heart and surprise her with his ability to convey an eloquent prayer.

“Dearest Lord, we invite Thee to be amongst us. We ask for the meal to be blessed as You also bless the hands of the one who prepared it. May it nourish and strengthen our body. In Jesus’ name we pray, amen.”

“Amen,” everyone echoed afterwards.

This time, his attention was averted to the small framed boy in front who giggled. “How silly. You can’t invite God to be amongst us when He is already present the entire time,” he spoke like a naive little child, finding amusement in the adult’s mistake. His tone was so carefree and absent from any mockery.

Hyunmi and a few other boys snorted a laugh, all looking at Woohyun to see his reaction. They expected his face to redden in embarrassment, or to be filled with raging emotions, but he displayed a reaction far from their prediction.

“What a bright young boy you are!” Woohyun exclaimed, his eyes focused on the little boy while his lips curved with delight. “Tell me your name.”

“My name is Donghyun, sir.”

“Donghyun, you must teach me the proper ways of saying grace next time. Would you do that for me?”

Donghyun gladfully nodded his head, his dark hair bouncing along to the vigorous movement. “I would love to! God always listens to my prayers.”

“Splendid! Then I am certain He would answer my prayer too!”

“What do you wish to pray for, sir?”

“Hm,” Woohyun hummed, knowing from his peripheral vision that the woman beside him morosely watched along. “I’ll pray for the ability to attain a certain lady’s heart. She has been nothing but cold to me, mocking me in my ways. I wish to gain her affection instead.”

“You ask for the impossible,” Hyunmi commented, whereas Donghyun was extremely pleased and excited at his reply.

“You speak as if you know the lady I have inquired about. Do you think it were you? Do you wish it were you?” Woohyun asked eagerly, curving his lips into a teasing grin as he watched her face flush red with slight embarrassment at her assumptions. It made him laugh. “You aren’t mistaken, Miss Hyunmi. Of course it were you. I wish to obtain your affection.”

Rika squealed a little at this point, grabbing unto Jangjun’s arm to let out the ecstasy she felt from watching the sight. Knowing Woohyun’s intention to court their mother, she could only wish for Hyunmi to melt at his words and accept his ways.

“Do not jest, Mr. Nam,” Hyunmi said, her voice weaker than the usual sternness it embedded. She focused her gaze on the soup instead, wanting to avoid his flirtatious ways.

“I am not,” he insisted. “To obtain your affection means to be treated with the warmth and gentleness you display to others in this room. I do not wish to be singled out.”

“Do not be greedy. You have plenty of wealth; tender affection you do not need of. Now eat, for the food will grow cold,” she said, putting an end to their conversation.

For the second time, Woohyun had received the same warning. Out of the sinful behaviors described in the Bible, he never considered himself to posses the creed of greed. What he desired was recognition and a prospective career advancement. The two siblings were the key to it.

He turned his head to Dongwoo, forgetting to get acquainted to him too. Something about Hyunmi greatly distracted him with a joy he couldn’t obtain elsewhere, and he wished to continue conversing had she not turned a cold shoulder on him.

Dongwoo lifted the spoon into his mouth, occasionally glancing at his sister and at Woohyun. There was no remorse or anger, instead a hidden eye smile that articulated joy through the sight he had witnessed. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too hard to win their favor.

The rest of the dining time continued in peace, though Woohyun was surprised to see the orphans chatter out loud with each other when he chose to remain silent. Such mannerism had been absent in his upbringing—he would receive a beating had he behaved in a similar manner. Even when their meal was finished, they chose to remain at the table and continue conversing. Everyone had much to say, and for once, people were willing to genuinely listen for the sake of listening rather than pleasing.

He watched as Hyunmi collected the dirty plates from the table, noticing the ferocious Youngtaek getting up to join her. Woohyun observed their actions before he shadowed the process with awkward clumsiness. Several times he nearly dropped the stack of plates, and Youngtaek sneered at him.

“You don’t possess the strength to carry such plates. Aren’t you ashamed as a man?” He asked mockingly.

“It is not the strength I lack of, but rather accuracy and agility. This is my first attempt at this task,” Woohyun confessed, letting Youngtaek take the plates off his hands, putting it into the sink.

“You grew up with servant maids by your side. A snobbish rich boy like you possess no simple knowledge of everyday matters,” Hyunmi said, unable to stop herself from judging the rich over and over again.

“I can’t fathom how such cruel words manage to escape the lips of a beautiful young lady. If you spoke with more care, you’d be a real beauty to behold.”

He stopped when she suddenly turned to face him, inching closer to meet him in a challenging stare. What possessed her the sudden courage to approach him, he did not know, and even he turned perplexed at their lessened distance.

“Then again, this society measures beauty by wealth; by how much our jewelry weighs, and how pretentious of a mask we are willing to put up. By the ability to stay dormant in the domestic sphere and obey a husband’s command as if we were prisoners. To such standards, I would much rather not conform myself to.”

She displayed such strong views opposing everything he was taught of as a child. “I notice you were an avid reader. You must not be fond of The Angel of the House.”

“How would you know my preference to read? As for the poetry written by Mr. Coventry Patmore, I can only find fault. An ideal woman as described in his poem is no different from a submissive servant.”

“I noticed the bookshelf occupied with numerous books,” he answered, being a man who took joy in his observations. The wooden cabinet door above the sink was rusting, slanting sideways at a dangerous angle that could hit her when loosened. Jangjun constantly watched Rika using the eyes of a lover, to which she was oblivious to. He noticed Dongwoo’s preference to be silent when simple words could not be formed, though he laughed the loudest and merriest in his glee. Such things, among many others, he noticed, but he would much rather discuss the poetry.

“Are you aware of Mrs. Kim Seulyi?” He then continued responding to the second part of her speech. “I have seen her conduct and faithful pledge to Myungsoo. She is quite the angel in the house, if I say so myself. The woman knows how to cook and host parties. She is an exquisite singer and shows the talent in the arts. I even heard she can sew her own clothes! What a marvelous woman Myungsoo ended up marrying.”

“Perhaps you should find someone like Mrs. Kim to wed. Someone who is willing to be entrapped to her husband’s slavery for the rest of her life.”

“Again, such judgemental and foul words appear from your mouth. Tell me, how could I make it stop? I wish not to hear you speak such malice of my friends.”

“To stop it, you and your partners should abandon your intention of purchasing this land. Then you may leave and we shall pretend to have never met. In that way, you won’t hear me speak malice again.”

Woohyun exhaled a deep sigh, seeing more of her stubbornness peeled off. She was a difficult opponent to persuade, and therefore all the more challenging. He had no thoughts of ceasing his attempts at acquiring her affection.

“It has been a long day. Perhaps I should rest,” he then said, trying to maintain his patience after her insolent speech. “Goodnight, Miss Hyunmi.”

“Goodnight, sir.”

She looked on with no attempts to make him stay. The sooner he was gone, the better. Perhaps then, her heart would return to its serene state prior to his appearance.


	5. Market

By the time morning arrived, Woohyun laid awake and idle in his bed. Truth be told, he had been tossing and turning all night long, seeking a comfort he could not find in the poor mattress. The springs were old and creaked at every movement; he even suspected the mattress to contain rocks inside. How do people sleep in such conditions? His body was never accustomed to the scarcity the rich would never be aware of.

Only when he heard noise coming from downstairs—for the walls were thin and no secrets could be concealed behind it—did he decide it was time to rise. He had taken with him his most comfortable clothes, learning from Hyunmi’s behavior that no one at the house would pay attention even if he wore his finest jewelry or most expensive tailored suit. Such importance bore no value in this household.

He came down when the sky was still absent from a radiant light, only emitting small glows of orange at the forthcoming sunrise it would behold. In the kitchen he saw a busy figure roaming around back and forth, and instead of greeting her, he leaned by the door, observing her.

What were her likes? What were her dislikes, other than her obvious loathing towards the rich? What sort of books did she read? What happened in her past? Why was the house so dear to her? Such were the questions he wished to form out loud, but his conscience stopped him from inquiring them, knowing she would not have opened up at this time. Not yet, he believed.

Only when the sound of her shuffling steps halted did he realize she had taken account of his presence, stopping to take a good look at him.

“You hair looks disheveled and you aren’t as charming as I remember from last night, haven’t you been able to get a good night sleep?” She asked, her tone laced with genuine care for once instead of her usual mocking replies. It was too good to be true, and he expected a different assertion of her character.

“Is that the opinion you have formed of me? To be of a charming disposition?” He asked, gently lifting his lips to a smile. It was the only part of her speech that he chose to indulge in, knowing the insults would return had he stated the reason for his inability to get sufficient sleep.

“Charm can be manipulative. And you strike to me as the man who would use his charm for a selfish want,” she said, too honest with her thoughts.

“What if, say, I wanted you? Would you be obliged to let me have it?”

She chuckled at this, but not a bashful nor a delighted chuckle. She clearly put no merit in his words, believing they were empty. “It is not me you seek, sir, but my land. Your tricks and words to dazzle women may have worked in the past, but you cannot fool one who is already aware of your intention.”

He knew at once what she was requesting; for him to stop showering her with lavish words in a coquettish manner. Though, at this point, he couldn’t tell whether she found it irritating, or asked him to stop in fear her heart may become receptive of it.

“How can you speak about a mere stranger as if you have known him since birth?” He asked, taking interest in the way her sharp opinions were formed.

“Because, dear sir,” she used a tone that cooed at him like a child, returning the authority to herself. “A day ago you told me you would only seduce a woman within your own league who is up to par with you. Yet, hours later, you make me the subject of your courting. Don’t you find it to be contradictory?”

“Someone advised me to seek a woman who is as equally arrogant as I am. Don’t you suppose you may bear those qualities?”

She squinted her eyes at him, half mused, but a feeling of antipathy returned to her conscience. “If I am arrogant, why should you want me?”

“Because a perfect being does not exist. I rather seek beauty in a place where the greatest flaws reside. Arrogance is a nugatory flaw eclipsed by hundreds of forbearing qualities.”

He paired his reply with his ever turning smile which she had long determined to be too handsome for her own good. It would be a lie if the way he gazed at her bore no such effects of making her heart gallop faster. She read genuinity from his eyes, no sense of treachery sprouted from his lips, and she nearly lost her resolve to cast away his flatteries. The rich sought beauty, but never in a cave no men had dared or wanted to enter before. He was different from the usual rich men she ascribed with. He was willing to plunge himself into the filthiest part of the forbidden cave.

“Tell me, would it be such a sin to pursue you?” He continued his blatant request, showing the brazen confidence of a rich man. Perhaps his wealth atoned to a behavior to do as he pleased, for he had hitherto never been subjected to a rejection.

“I am in no position to throw judgements between right and wrong in this matter. However, I will advise you not to trouble yourself with relentless pursuits,” she spoke with the hint of a brief smile.

The conversation ended when she turned her back on him, walking to the kitchen to prepare for breakfast. When she opened the upper cabinet door, Woohyun observed the creaking latch, knowing it became more slanted than the night before. It wouldn’t take long before it would come undone.

“Would you be interested in coming to the market with me today?” Hyunmi suddenly inquired, fastening the cabinet to its fixed position. She swiftly set the table for the orphans and the new tenant, turning to him with an almost smile.

“The market?” He repeated.

“Yes.”

It was a test to see how far his intention extended to. She had been skeptical over his stay, only allowing it because Dongwoo insisted it. But to abandon his richness, he would also have to abandon his pride and status in public. It was a step no rich man in their good mind was willing to take; it required too much of a sacrifice at a gain of nothing, except an unstable security.

“Would it please you if I go?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Then I see no reason to decline this opportunity. I would gladly go wherever you go, Miss,” he said, smiling so convincingly she was forced to nullify her skepticism, even believing her prior doubts were foolish.

Perhaps she stood corrected and was wrong to dispose such judgements against a good fellow. He hadn’t displayed any malign intention other than the illusionary ones created in her head. He was, in fact, far too kind.

The sun rose at this point, contouring every shades outside with a heavenly tangerine shine, like a distant fireball taking its place in the benign sky. The sight pulled an audience of two who stared out the window to witness one of nature’s greatest phenomenon.

“Remarkable! I have never seen such a thing!” Woohyun exclaimed, stepping closer to her to marvel at the sight outside the window. In that instant, he resembled a child who hadn’t tasted the sweetness of life yet, who never experienced a snowflake on his tongue, or inhaled the floral scent of a flower garden. He protruded an unexpected innocence.

“You must leave your mansion every so often. There is much of the world you are blinded to,” she remarked.

“Indeed, the beauty of life lies beyond the walls of my own castle.”

Hyunmi fixed her eyes on the sunrise. Following her scheduled day-to-day routine, she had many times encountered the phenomenon, but disregarded it as nothing unusual. It was only after Woohyun’s gullible excitement that she realized what sort of blessing was bestowed upon her. Never take ordinary occurrences for granted; one may be accustomed to it, but not many may be privileged enough to witness it. Uncanny, how the rich man taught her a changing perspective for once.

“It is indeed a sight behold,” Hyunmi muttered under her breath.

Woohyun transfixed his eyes on her, a view more magnificent than the sun outside. The way the hue touched the features of her face, contouring her sharp jawline, the dazzling hope twinkling in her eyes, and the growing smile on her soft lips, he saw it all.

“The beauty I described of belongs to the woman standing in front of me,” he then spoke in a low whisper.

This came rather unexpected, as did the way her heart react with such tumultuous beating. She laced her fingers together, afraid to feel her own heartbeat when she knew for certain it was racing faster than before. He was a gal sneaker. He spewed sweet venoms to dazzle. She reminded herself to guard her heart over and over again..

Before any could continue their speech, loud yells came from above, trampling the stairs beneath their zealous footsteps. Soon, the deserted dining room was filled with the presence of fellow residence. None seemed to have minded Woohyun’s presence, aside from Rika who took joy in the sight, and Youngtaek who showed a foul temper at once.

“You must, at all times, retain a proper distance!” The younger boy yelled, marching forwards to fill the gap between the two, widening them apart. He casted a dangerous look at Woohyun, more menacing than he ever showed the offensive butchers at the marketplace during a fight.

“I haven’t done anything that trespasses a good Christian value,” Woohyun spoke, raising his hand.

“Haven’t? Ha! That shows your intention to do so!”

“Not without permission, I shall not.”

Youngtaek grew more aggravated, finding only qualities to grow his hatred. No other man was allowed to come near the woman he held dear to himself, especially not a wealthy stranger who seemed to harbor ill intentions.

“I shall be here to protect Hyunmi at all times, so don’t you dare make any improper move, or I shall have your fingers chopped as well!”

“Youngtaek!” It was both Rika and Hyunmi who called after him this time, stopping him in his vulgarities.

“The lad is jealous, let him be,” Joochan said nonchalantly, taking a seat at the table with his beloved stringed instrument in his hand. He played a romantic melody that juxtaposed the vexed atmosphere,

The peculiar sight had Woohyun baffled, staring with a sense of awe, wonderment, and confusion mixed in one emotion. The feud with Youngtaek was soon forgotten as he approached the talented boy at the table instead.

“You play the instrument?” He remarked.

“The guitar,” Joochan confirmed.

There was silence before he resumed speaking after recollecting his thoughts. “But you are a man. You are not supposed to possess such skills reserved for a woman.”

Joochan stared at him weirdly before emitting a small laughter. “So I thought of at first, sir. However, being an orphan—a nobody—no one shall care for me enough to reprimand me of such behavior.”

“It is the ones in position of authority who becomes an examplarery model for others,” Hyunmi continued, approaching the two. Her deep hatred found its way to the surface whenever such topic was mentioned. “Beside, why should it be forbidden for a boy to pursue his passion in music? If God had given him the talents in this area, would you have blamed our mighty Creator and accused Him of making a mistake?”

Her words challenged him with another mindset he hadn’t been contrived to conceive. Growing up in his proper household, he was taught to accept principles without ever questioning them. Yet, her persuasive words made such sense he wanted to discuss the matter with his friends or family to inquire a third opinion.

“Sit.” It was Dongwoo’s familiar monosyllabic command that snapped him back to reality. The eldest of the house led him to the same empty seat he had occupied the night prior. He was kind enough to take a loaf of bread for the lad, even smearing it with the scarce strawberry jam in their possession.

“Dongwoo, no! That is a valuable condiment that should not be wasted on the likes of him. He has every meal at his disposal and wouldn’t know the value of such a thing,” Youngtaek began shouting in protest.

“Behave yourself. We are taught to give lavishly; to offer the best of what we have rather than the spare leftovers,” Hyunmi reprimanded him at once.

At this point, Rika recalled a story from the scripture. “It is as we have been taught. A wealthy man gave a tenth of his rich possession to the church, while a poor old woman only had a penny to offer. Now among the two, who has given the most? Why, it was the old lady, of course! For she had given everything in her possession while the rich man gave what he had plenty of.”

“It shall remain as one of my favorite tales,” Jangjun commented, wanting to compliment Rika on the way she told the story, but got interrupted by his friend’s rage.

“The woman offered everything up for God, but this man is no God. He is the man who only gave one tenth of his wealth!” Youngtaek started raising his voice, veins visibly green against his pale skin as he rudely pointed a finger at Woohyun.

“God’s angel can come in the form of random passersby. You should be more discreet with your words,” Daeyeol reminded their short tempered friend. They knew he meant no harm, merely feeling threatened by another male in the house.

Dongwoo decided to put an end to it as he shoved the bread in front of Woohyun’s mouth, shifting the topic. “Eat,” he commanded again.

“Oh, no, sir. I rather not—”

“Eat.”

“I can use my own—”

“Eat.”

Woohyun knew it was useless to argue against a man who would end his arguments using the same choice of words every time. So he surrendered by opening his mouth, never expecting himself to be fed by another grown man. A triumphant cheer from fellow orphans followed after he had tasted the savory delicacy. He found the achievement too ridiculous to be celebrated, yet they did. What a peculiar bunch of people. Still he laughed with them.

“Now I must return the favor,” he insisted, preventing Dongwoo from returning to his seat. He abandoned proper table manners and picked a piece of bread using his bare hand, dipping it in the strawberry jam before shoving it to the elder’s face. “You, too, shall eat.”

Dongwoo looked dazzled for a short moment, but soon obliged and took a mouthful of the bread prepared for him.

What followed afterwards was again an eruptive cheer, so heartwarming as it was noisy, joyful as it was strange. Such behavior would never be present had he dined in his mansion with his upper class friends and family forever. Sometimes, one had to be willing to step down from his position in order to see new possibilities.

There was a strange sense of serenity as Hyunmi watched; once again trying to detect any malice, once again discovering none. He was robbing her of her skepticism with every second passing by.

“Make haste. You promised to accompany me to the marketplace,” Hyunmi interrupted, maintaining the sternness through her firm voice. This way, no one would notice she may have softened a little.

“Is Mr. Nam coming along?” Jangjun asked.

“Yes, the Miss would’ve been woefully dejected had I declined,” Woohyun said dramatically, putting up a tearful sonata for the orphans to see.

“You exaggerate. I never spoke such words,” she said, unable to stop herself from smiling when he made the task more impossible to sustain.

Youngtaek grunted, disheartened at the exchange between them. “I shall go too,” he declared.

“Normally you would’ve been the hardest to convince,” Jangjun remarked of his friend.

“Well, today I have been convinced,” Youngtaek declared. Indeed, the convincing came in the form of a Mr. Nam Woohyun who seemed to be making his way into Hyunmi’s heart already. Jealousy was such a dangerous emotion to act upon, and Youngtaek tiptoed along the hairline of such boundaries.

***

As expected, the journey along the market alley was asserted with numerous stares. People mainly knew others who suffered a similar fate; though they may not remember names, they never fail to recognize faces. Thus, seeing a man as wealthy as Nam Woohyun—who could be recognized by both name and visual despite being off a more blessed fate—they transfixed their gaze on him like raising the curtains of a theater. Hyunmi, Dongwoo, Rika, Jangjun, and Yougtaek were mere cameos to appear in Woohyun’s grand act.

This observation did not go unnoticed by Hyunmi who decided to mortify the shameful path he walked on. “People are staring at you. Why should a rich man associate himself with the likes of us? Has misfortune befallen him? I am quite certain they bask in those inquiries.”

This made Youngtaek scoff, pleased whenever the other was mocked with acrimony.

“They aren’t staring at me, Miss Hyunmi,” Woohyun remarked, greeting every onlooker with a kind smile. Then he saw the confusion knit between her brows, and leaned closer to speak in a sotto voce, “They are looking at you.”

Hyunmi retreated away from him, supposed to be galled, but meeting her feelings with curiosity instead. “How so?”

“Perhaps they are wondering how a simple woman managed to keep a wealthy man by her side. Ah, but then again, you were never simple to begin with. You deflect my wit and reject my flatteries with no compassion. You are a puzzle yourself, Miss.”

“Your words confuse me and I can’t tell whether to receive it as a compliment or an insult. However, I can guarantee it is not me they see, but you. You belong in a world of the upper class. Among us pariahs, you are no different from an idol we worship.”

“What a sinful position I bear! I do not wish to take the glory away from God almighty,” he said dejectedly, adding his woeful act by beating his chest, signifying his punishment and repentance.

“There is no mistake you are entirely human with its vain and arrogant attributes. Only a fool would grant you the praise and glory reserved for our Heavenly Father.”

“And you are wise, therefore you ascertain a hatred toward me.”

Hyunmi turned to him, studying the slight falter in his usual confidence. He uttered the words with ease, wanting to test her assent towards his statement. But his smile crippled like a swaying ship of which the anchor was placed on the impartation of her forthcoming speech. She wondered whether he was aware of the tremendous authority he had given her over his emotion, unless it was the facade of his deceit.

“She hates you ineffably, that is certain! I have never seen her argue with anyone the way she counters every single one of your words,” Youngtaek scowled, placing no regards to the other’s feeling.

Of course this was a biased opinion formed entirely by Youngtaek himself. Hyunmi had not fully ascertained Woohyun’s character to properly discern him yet. She abhorred the rich, greatly, but a single person should not be measured by the group he was associated with. For now, she chose silence, letting him linger in such belief.

“You speak such nonsense all the time, Youngtaek. We should place our attention to our goods. I hope we sell plenty of milk today,” Rika spoke cheerfully, walking in front with Jangjun who carried a cart filled with dairy products they had obtained through manual labor.

Woohyun was quickly distracted by a new world he hadn’t previously encountered before: the lower class marketplace. People were gallantly shouting amidst each other, and he was unable to decipher singular words. As they marked their spot next to an elderly merchant couple, Jangjun’s loud voice deemed to be extremely useful for this task.

“Fresh milk! Get your fresh milk here!” the boy yelled with the great tenorian resonance, shrilling above everyone else’s voices like a newspaper boy. His announcement managed to turn heads and within several minutes of settling down, they had sold a few bottles already.

“Remarkable!” Woohyun exclaimed once more, immersed to see the trade happening before his very eyes. The rich’s involvement in the marketplace consisted of signing a contract to prevent any embreachment; the things they traded for were more intrinsic in value. Household necessities were taken care of by the servants, and never touched upon by the masters of the house.

“Where do you obtain the fresh milk?” He asked, impressed to see their growing sales. Milk was a commodity wanted by many and acted as an ideal source of income. He was assured of their educated intelligence, which could be considered scholarly on their level.

“Cow,” Dongwoo replied for him. He imitated the mooing of a cow, protruding his lips to kiss the air. Then he laughed at himself, followed by the others who had witnessed it. He had such a silly and carefree side to him, and hearing his laughter felt heartwarmingly tranquil. It bore the effect to lift up even the most unbearable burdens, such was the purity of his simple minded joy.

“You milk the cows yourself? Where do you obtain the animal from?” He inquired again.

“We own them,” Rika said, continuing to rearrange the milk bottles in the basket. She opened the cap of one, handing it to Jangjun to quench his thirst from all the shouting.

“You own cows?” Woohyun repeated—the idea was madness. Based on Sunggyu and Sungyeol’s information, the Jang siblings were not supposed to own anything at their residence aside from the valuable country home. But owning cows brought a new prospect into the picture; perhaps they weren’t as poor as they let on.

“You must try and milk cows with us someday,” Jangjun suggested. He and Dongwoo exchanged looks, grinning at the thoughts of the rich man trying his hands at farm work.

“Yes! Mother will teach you!” Rika added on to this.

Woohyun’s mouth fell open, but he couldn’t search the words to protest. He stared at Hyunmi whose blank expression cleared up into a daring smile. She seemed to agree with the idea.

“I shall comply if you are willing to humble yourself over such labor,” she said in a singsong voice, half mocking, half expecting.

“Do you wish for me to do so?” He asked instead, again inquiring her opinion to decide for him. As with that morning, her answer hadn’t changed.

“Yes.”

“Then I shall gladly take up the challenge and become your loyal pupil,” he said, heaving his chest up, placing his fist to make a pledge for them all to witness.

Hyunmi laughed, trying to paint of picture of the chaos that would ensue. Oh, it would be hilarious as she was sure the wealthy man would encounter a catastrophe he never knew existed.

“We’ll help as well,” Youngtaek quickly added, folding his arms in protest. He would rather die than leave his dear one in the company of the stranger. Someone needed to stand watch at all times, and he willingly took up that role.

“Yes! Us help!” Dongwoo cheered along, making festive noises as he raised his hand in the air for a celebration. Jangjun soon joined in, adding on to the loud cheers.

Woohyun made another interesting observation. Perhaps it was the fact they were orphans, or perhaps such was the way they were taught, but they indulged in the smallest pleasure of life. Even the smallest blessing deserved an extravagant celebration. Everytime a milk bottle was sold, they cheered and offered each other congratulatory words. They were very easy to please.

Woohyun leaned in to Dongwoo for a secret exchange, and spoke in a hushed voice. “So based on my understanding, we may purchase anything of our liking in this place?” He asked, looking around the market with hawkeyes to scan for any interesting item.

“Yes! Buy everything!” Dongwoo yelled, swinging his arms in the air.

With that, Woohyun got up from the spot he had been sitting at, excused himself, and started wandering along the market by himself.

“Where is he going?” Rika questioned, wondering why he hadn’t inquired Hyunmi to come along.

“Buy everything!” Dongwoo repeated again. Of course, such was not the case, but his limited vocabularies prevented him from telling the full tale. They were left to assume the wealthy man would purchase the entire market area, which was truly possible.

“He is neglecting his responsibilities. I told you, Hyunmi, he would not survive our rigid lifestyle. He refuses hard labor and is opting an escape!” Youngtaek said with his accusing tongue. In front of Hyunmi, he tried to elevate suspicion to tame down the benign way she viewed the stranger.

“Impossible. I am certain he has a reason for his behavior,” Rika said in defense of the other.

The two continued to argue as they formed more theories for their claims, one for, and the other against. But as the day neared its end, Youngtaek’s skepticism reigned victorious. Woohyun hadn’t returned even when the sun began to set.

“See? He has made his escape,” he reiterated once more as they busied themselves organizing their remains of their sale. A smothered smirk escaped his lips, pleased with the satisfactory outcome.

“That can’t be. His clothes and baggage are still at our house,” Rika said, trying to hold on to remaining hope.

“He is a rich man. He could survive without a pair of his fancy dress shirts,” Youngtaek scoffed, thinking of other smart replies to expostulate him. But as he looked up from his task, he sighted the figure of the irksome subject at a far distance. Woohyun returned to them with a basket in his hand.

Hyunmi got up from her seat immediately, dismissing all stares from fellow merchants and orphans as she walked up to meet him. “Where have you gone off to?”

“Ah, judging on the tone in your voice I am very tempted to deduce you have been worried about my whereabouts,” he answered in a leisurely manner, smiling in his usual flamboyant way.

“Curiosity and concern are similar in nature, but different in purpose—do not be mistaken,” she quickly deflected his claims. “Now answer me, where have you gone off to?”

Dongwoo joined them this time, eyes curiously peeking into the basket before they rested on Woohyun again. “You buy everything?” He asked with great wonderment.

“Nearly,” Woohyun answered, taking out a small jar of red colored paste inside. “I searched the entire place for these strawberry jams, and once found, decided to buy them all.”

“Are these for us?” Jangjun asked with excitement, his mouth and eyes widening in a similar manner. He reached out into the basket, examining the surplus of strawberry jam in their possession.

“Certainly,” Woohyun answered, facing Youngtaek now. “You no longer have to fear wasting precious condiments on the likes of me. You have plenty now—indulge in it!”

Hyunmi conceded a small laughter, catching Woohyun’s attention before she could conceal it. A few days ago, she was certain she would’ve despised him for showing off his wealth. The rich used their possession as means of oppressing the poor, drawing a clear boundary between their differing purchasing power. Yet, she was certain it had not been Woohyun’s intention to display his wealth. He wanted to return the favor granted to him.

After all, when one offers their most valuable possession, greater riches shall be added unto them.


	6. Value

A bad company corrupts the good moral of men, and a good company restores its corruption. The relationship built between the orphans and Nam Woohyun could be classified as neither, both seeming to benefit each other in unexpected ways. When he announced his intention to acquaint himself with every vivacious personality in the orphanage, he proved to be a man of his words. For days now, he lavished his time with the orphans—each earning an allotted hour in his day. The boundary between them almost seemed forgotten for he blended so well, as if he was one of them. At times however, he was still prone of making blunders.

“You can draw?” Woohyun blinked his eyes, staring at Rika who had brought the topic up during dinner. The lines of disbelief were ingrained on his face.

“I take pleasure in drawing,” Rika confirmed.

“Sometimes we take turns to be drawn by her. She is the greatest artist out there!” Donghyun said eagerly, nearly hopping in the wooden chair that seemed far too big for his small frame.

“Why does it appear so surprising to you? The society places a woman’s value in her ability to draw, play music, and carry out domestic chores, does it not? It is your perfect portrayal of The Angel in The House.” Hyunmi appeared beside him, picking up empty plates to tidy up the table. Of course she induced a tone of provocation, mocking the rich society she despised with the steadfastness of a raging river.

“I am aware of that,” Woohyun said, choosing to seal his lips before continuing his sentence. He remained silent, reconstructing his words and clearing his hesitation into an expressive smile. “You must show me! Could I become the subject of your next drawing?”

The request surprised Rika, as she turned to Jangjun, seeking support. Finding the reassuring comfort in his kind eye smile, she turned to the rich man with unwavering hesitation. “I have only drawn my family thus far, and they form a biased opinion regarding my abilities. Do not set your expectations too high, Mr. Nam, I am afraid it will only disappoint you.”

“Do not devalue your own abilities! How could you insult the Creator who has granted you such an astounding gift?” Jangjun immediately countered her pessimism. Instead of anger, he ejaculated a tone of remorse, taking offense instead of their God.

“What good is a gift if I can do nothing with it? I can’t earn money with it. A storm would drench every line drawn in pencil, and the wind would sweep away the thin paper,” Rika began to wail tragically when more doubt belittled her.

“Your gift makes us happy, wouldn’t that amount to anything?” Jangjun added his final argument. He turned to her, taking her hands within his own to transfer the genuinity of his endless support. “Do not underestimate your own abilities, please.”

“Besides,” Woohyun added, deliberately raising his voice to turn all attention to him, “I grew up developing a fine eye towards the art. Whether or not your drawing is of fine quality shall be determined by me.”

Such was the time when everyone cheered in relentless support, wishing the talented girl could confidently look at her abilities through their eyes. Many of their praises entered her heart, and despite her gratitude, never reached her belief.

To add on to the festive chaos, Dongwoo ensued into the room, running around with several art supplies in his hands. “Paper! Paper!” He yelled with such ardour, giving Rika a paper and pencil to sketch with.

“What should I do?” Woohyun asked eagerly, expecting the young artist to have been convinced enough to start her wonder.

“Pull your chair out against the wall. You must then maintain your position for hours until she is finished,” Jangjun guided, having been a subject for far too often. Beside, he secretly did not want Rika to be the one physically directing Woohyun.

“I shall do my best not to disappoint you, Mr. Nam,” Rika said, stretching her arm with a pencil in hand, squinting one eye to measure his proportions.

“I don’t doubt you,” Woohyun gave her the final spurge of encouragement before Rika began translating his profile on paper.

In those passing moments of stillness, he noticed all the other orphans gathering around Rika, staring at her paper in awe. Based on the manner they dispersed around her—like a swarm of bees surrounding a blooming flower—he figured it was nearly an everyday occurance to see her drawing process. A part of him wondered what other day-to-day activities they tend to engage in.

Everyone was there except for Hyunmi who took on the role as the mother of the orphanage and cleaned up the table. Every so and then, he caught her taking a peek from behind the sink. As his eyes swayed to her direction, he noticed once again, the faltering latch of the cabinet door.

“You must smile, Mr. Nam. Smile,” Rika reminded immediately, too focused to process what had caused the sudden deep lines to grow on his forehead.

After an hour had passed, Rika finally declared its completion. She held the drawing in front of her, luring the model and even the mother of the house to take a look.

“Remarkable!” Woohyun exclaimed at once, staring back at an exact replica of himself drawn out on paper. Though it was only drawn on a flimsy sheet of paper, its quality was that of a painting he wished to have framed in his living room. “Under the hands of a skilful artist, even the most ordinary tools become a part of a greater masterpiece.”

The drawing may not have been able to precede the famous works of male painters of their time, but there was a certain liveliness reaching out to the beholder. The black and white drawn out pupils seemed to beckon joy and curiousity from its onlookers, bearing the ability to make one feel a new depth of emotion.

“She is talented, isn’t she?” Jangjun questioned, proud of Rika’s abilities.

“Certainly. Though if I may inquire, what kind of future do you see with this gift of yours? Considering you are a woman, it may be difficult to sell it,” Woohyun said rather bluntly. Perhaps his interest was inquired at the wrong time, for silence ensued immediately.

Society placed a great difference between male and female; the rich and the poor. Being a poor female placed oneself as the pariah among the plebians. Women were no subject of receiving education unless sent to a boarding school, but admittance to an art school was only granted to boys. Rika had no chance of obtaining formal training in this field even if she were to enhance her skills. There was no future awaiting her, which was the subject Mr. Nam touched upon. Even the greatest talent failed to overthrow the restrictions of a mightier society.

“A difficult obstacle does not define an impossibility. She may become the first female artist known to men,” Hyunmi broke the silence, answering instead. As always, her views were so radical, upbraiding present society. If one heard her talk delirium with such passion, they may think she was harboring a revolution.

“But how can she obtain fame when she draws using a pencil? The renowned artist uses a canvas and the most expensive extracts of oil paint. Rika has no access to such items!” Woohyun said, the inflation of his voice easily interpreted as an invitation for an argument.

As much as Hyunmi hated it, she found truth in his speech. She pressed her lips tightly shut, preventing herself from emitting foolish words created by the aggravation of the situation.

“It’s quite alright. Please don’t quarrel over me. I have accepted my fate as it is. My future isn’t that of an artist; I will possibly become a servant at a rich man’s house. As long as I have bread to eat and a shelter above my head, I shall be content,” Rika quickly said, wanting to maintain the peace among them. Her drawing was supposed to help people, not divide them. Being the phlegmatic peacekeeper, she abhorred a tension among her loved ones.

She handed the drawing to Woohyun and ran off upstairs, displaying a behavior contrasting the contentment she spoke of. Jangjun and Hyunmi immediately went after her, trying to console her from the misunderstanding she may have formed.

“Don’t worry. No one ever goes to bed with ill feelings. Everything will be sorted out before sunrise,” Daeyeol told Woohyun, reassuringly placing his hand on his shoulder.

“Though if you wish to bask in regret and blame yourself for this incident, you may do so and reflect on it,” Youngtaek added with a sardonic grin. He whined when Dongwoo lightly jerked his arm, reprimanding him for his foul mouth. Then the elder turned to Woohyun, and pressing a finger against Woohyun’s chest, spoke:

“Innocent.”

Woohyun was silenced whereas others resumed to clean off the kitchen. He lifted his head toward the ceiling, as if beckoning God for help, and exhaled a long sigh. He wanted to obtain their hearts, win their favor, and obtain the house. His hard efforts seemed to be met by a distancing boundary he drew upon himself. The disparity was too big a gap to try to be mended by one man.

***

Daeyeol guaranteed the assortment of any feud before sunrise, but that early morning, Woohyun still felt a great hole puncturing his heart with unease. He did not quite understand his own emotion; a mixture of guilt for crushing a girl’s dream, remorse for creating an emotional distance with the ones he was supposed to flatter, and confusion as to how it started off. Something kept gawking at his heart, and until he spotted Hyunmi’s presence in the kitchen early next morning, did he realize it was her unusual silence that bothered him. Her verbal weapons were always ready to target him, and to be met with the tightness of her lips meant an acknowledgement of his vicious claims. This was a case where he wished candor had not aided him.

“I apologize for my impertinence last night.” The words escaped his lips before he decided on his next course of action. He managed to surprise her, seeing her shoulder jolt up in response, but she never turned.

“You have nothing to apologize for. You only spoke truth,” she said, using a cold tone retreating in distance. Had she argued with him or mocked the wealthy, he could assume she, at least, had the assiduous intention to correct him.

While he once again tried to rearrange his words and thoughts, she had reached out to the cabinet above her head. The creak yielded a different cry, more urgent than before. Woohyun knew it could no longer maintain itself and would fall off within seconds. Out of instinct, he gently grabbed her by the arm and spun her against him while his other hand reached out to the drawer to hold it steady, preventing its fall.

Hyunmi nearly elicited a small gasp, but quickly held her breath realizing how close he had pressed her petite frame against him. Her inability to utter a single word brought a great concern, and her immobility to move was met by his receptiveness towards it. And her heart—oh her poor heart—knew it was committing a sin by beating tumultuously for this man she was forbidden to hold any affections for.

“The cabinet door nearly hit you,” he finally regained his voice to form a coherent explanation. His fingers released the grip against her, feeling an unexplainable sense of disappointment as he did so.

“I… I shall tell Sungyoon to fix it,” she replied, a clear tremor in her usual stern voice. Her eyes awkwardly averted from him, though it tried to find its way back towards him at secret intervals. After regaining her own composure, she slowly moved away from his protection, only to have him suddenly grab unto her arm again, though more gentler and desperate this time. He maintained their distance, so close it almost seemed he would embrace her at any moment.

“I never intended to offend Rika. I am deplorable of your judgment towards my coquettish character, but I am genuine in acknowledging her talent. I am worried on her behalf,” he spoke in a whispered manner she could barely receive it if she hadn’t leaned in closer.

“How so?”

“Please forgive my rudeness once again, but I stopped my tongue before continuing my speech out loud last night.” He gambled his next set of words, unable to determine the outcome of her reaction at his condemnation. “You asked whether drawing, playing music, and doing domestic chores were all part of being the ideal woman, to which the answer is a yes. However, the status and class determines an ample amount to such worth.”

She immediately realized the content of his speech, feeling the residue of her anger morph to hopelessness. “No matter how talented she is, belonging to the lower class is an inferiority that shall never cease to chase after her.”

“I am afraid so. I see the agreement written in your eyes.”

Hyunmi turned her head away from him, producing a sombre scoff. “In the end, a person’s value is determined by their social worth instead of abilities.”

As he searched for something comforting to say—though he realized he was in no position responsible of providing comfort—the lights in the dimly lit kitchen switched on. The sombre atmosphere met the bright illumination before the sunrise. Staring back at them from the door entrance was Dongwoo.

He kept his eyes on Woohyun, silently forming an opinion of the scene he witnessed. Dongwoo’s personality was one starked with optimism, and he couldn’t identify a bad intention even if it were plainly placed before his eyes.

“Brother,” Hyunmi quickly called out, realizing their stance and the misunderstanding it could create. She removed herself from Woohyun’s hold to approach her brother. “Has anything happened?”

“Milk… Gone,” he said, holding up the empty glass bottle in his hand, only a few drops of milk remaining.

“Ah!” Hyunmi turned to Woohyun with a sudden glee, contrasting her earlier mood. “I promised you a lesson on milking cows.”

“Has the day finally come, then?” Woohyun asked, slowly releasing the cabinet, careful to keep it in place. A strange sense of excitement filled his heart, still eager to learn of the new world he had yet to explore.

“It has come,” Hyunmi confirmed to him and turned to her brother. “Don’t worry, brother. We shall fill another dozen of these milk jars.”

***

As Woohyun trailed after Hyunmi towards the pasture behind the house, a sense of skepticism invaded him. The house was at the center of a large forest, nearly as big as a farm land. Sunggyu’s desire to own every acre covered by land was understandable—even Woohyun could envision the future buildings to be positioned there. It raised a new curiosity regarding the Jang sibling’s true wealth, or their asserted lack of it.

“How many cows do you owe on this land?” He asked, eyes scanning around the pasture to count them in his head.

“Three. One passed away,” Hyunmi answered.

Woohyun wasn’t sure whether to wish his condolences when the victim was an animal, settling for a diplomatic response instead. “My apologies. If it wouldn’t be too rude, may I know its story?”

“A deadly creature appeared in the middle of the night, sucking all of its blood dry. Do you know what haunting creature I speak of?” She asked him with a twinkling mischief in her eyes, and proceeded to answer. “A vampire.”

The content of her speech was so nonsensical it took him a short delay before laughing out loud, feeling the heaviness cleared from his heart. He had forgotten her ability to blurt out ridiculous statements when she wasn’t pushing criticism towards the rich.

“You are jesting with me!”

“You looked very dejected; my kind heart wishes to fill you with good cheer,” she said in a rather dramatic manner, grinning in anticipation of a counterattack.

“Again, you tempt me into believing you have grown to care for me. Tell me, am I wrong?”

This, she chose not to answer other than by flashing a cheeky smile. Hyunmi stopped beside the cow, gently petting its head before kneeling down. Woohyun mimicked her movement, lowering himself to place the empty buckets he had volunteered to carry on the floor.

“One of our cows passed away from mastitis—an infection developed in the cow’s udder for not being milked enough. To prevent this, Jangjun taught all of us how to milk a cow, including Donghyun who is as flimsy as a bird’s feather. So now we take turns caring for the cows.”

“Is Jangjun some sort of a cow expert?”

The statement was odd enough to make her laugh. “He is an animal encyclopedia. His main responsibility—other than caring for Rika—is to oversee the animal’s health.”

“Ah, are his affections for Rika known to public, then?” Woohyun immediately asked, squatting closely beside her to take note of her actions.

“Everyone is aware of it, except for her. I am surprised you have made the observation. Though, considering your keen interest in spending your entire day with them, it is only natural for you to obtain such knowledge.”

“You speak as if you are jealous of the time they occupied, wishing I could’ve spent it with you instead,” he said, a dimpled smile stretched across teasing lips.

Hyunmi abruptly turned to deny the claim, but didn’t account he was sitting at a distance where she could hear the softness of his breathings. She quickly averted her eyes, focusing on the cow instead.

“Use the rag to clean off the udder from any dirt or hay. It keeps the milk clean,” she immediately said, mumbling a little incoherently in an attempt to conceal an emotion and distract herself with. Her intention to reply his claims was long forgotten

Perhaps it was the glow of the sunrise, but he discovered red splatters on her cheeks as beautiful as a flourishing rose. Maybe he had already charmed her, unaware of her hidden affections. She may be different from other women, but everyone always ended up falling for him in the end. Such was the captivating weapon he yielded.

“Do you comprehend?” She suddenly asked, and Woohyun realized he had muted her entire explanation as he drowned himself lost in thoughts.

“Yes,” he said, though having no clue. “I would appreciate it if you could directly aid me as you repeat your words once more.”

The same expression of annoyance she displayed during their first meeting reappeared, and Woohyun stopped himself from forming a smile at the amusing sight. She showed her chivalry by grabbing his hand, leading it to the cow’s udder. What a strange feeling it was; taught and hard like a fully loaded water tank, yet so raw to his touch.

“Place your thumb on top, circle it with your index finger, then gently squirt.”

Woohyun wasn’t prepared to feel her entire hand wrapped around his, the soothing warmth emitting from her skin. She moved closer in an attempt to aid him, but his senses were drenched and distracted by her sweet ambery fragrance. He paid less attention to the milking lesson, accidentally aiming the milk to squirt at himself.

“Oh, Lord!” Woohyun shouted, getting up on his feet to see milk dripping down the lower part of his fancy blouse all the way to his pants. As he stood there in sheer panic, he didn’t expect his hysteria to be met by Hyunmi’s effervescent cacchination.

“Is this hilarious to you?”

“Very, Mr. Nam.”

“Then you must let me join and find amusement in you as well,” he said, spontaneously grabbing unto her waist like an ambush, smearing the dripping milk to her dress. If one expected the tenacious Hyunmi to scold him of his ill behavior, they would stand amazed at her ever growing laughter. Something about the situation was as ridiculous as it was heartwarming, and even Woohyun smiled when he held her so close to himself again.

Until the sound of someone clearing his throat interrupted the ceremoniously joyful atmosphere, separating the two at an immediate distance.

Hyunmi squinted her eyes immediately, her face returning to the sternness of an orphanage mother. There was a stranger; a young man around Daeyeol’s age, wearing a checkered red vest using a luxurious material only the rich could afford.

“Sungjong!” Woohyun immediately recognized the fellow.

“I came here, worried a snobbish rich boy such as yourself would not have survived the urban lifestyle, but I had been wrong. You seem to have made proper adjustments,” the young man named Sungjong spoke. His cadence was filled with derision, and unusually absent from any malice.

“You clearly underestimate me. In fact, I am enjoying myself beyond my expectation.”

“I reckon,” Sungjong said, eyes glimmering with brewing suspicions when he looked at the girl he had vaguely seen before. “Excuse me, Miss, but have we been acquainted before? You seem familiar.”

“She was at Mrs. Kim Seulyi’s recent party as my guest,” Woohyun immediately said.

“Ah, yes! The girl wearing rags.” Sungjong chose an odd characteristic to remember her by. He never extended a hand for a handshake. “I am Lee Sungjong, Sungyeol’s little brother.”

Hyunmi’s eyes widened with surprise at the revelation. Her speculation proved to be correct. Lee Sungjong belonged to the prestigious upper class world, which was immediately recognizable through the way he carried himself. Still, what a stark contrast it was from Sungyeol’s first impression; dark and malicious in every way.

“I am humbled. My name is Jang Hyunmi,” she replied, giving a polite curtsy for his proper manners.

“Why are you here?” Woohyun asked, knowing there must’ve been a reason for his impromptu visitation.

“Ah, my brother and Mr. Sunggyu wanted me to deliver this to you.” Sungjong took an epistle from his pocket, handing it to Woohyun.

He slightly shifted his body to block Hyunmi’s vision towards the contents in case it contained classified information. And indeed, his next set of instructions were better left unknown.

_Dear Mr. Woohyun,_

_Meet me and Mr. Sungyeol at Iris Pub tomorrow noon. Mr. Myungsoo shall be present too._   
_We have matters to discuss._

_Your respectfully,_   
_Kim Sunggyu_


	7. Observation

An aristocrat gentleman had to constantly present himself without any blemish or flaw, for judgemental eyes were watching his every trail. Woohyun returned to the country home to change himself into the attire of the rich; he brought it in case such meetings were to take place. Then he excused himself for the day, going off with Sungjong towards the Iris Pub.

When they were far enough from the house, Sungjong burst out into a contumelious laughter in the most inexorable manner. “Are you aware of the way you looked? How ridiculous. I may even be ashamed of being your acquaintance,” he then spoke with the sharpness of his tongue.

“As always, you still take pleasure in insulting others. It isn’t an attitude one should possess as a scholar, especially with the subject of your study,” Woohyun spoke calmly, taking no offense to the younger man’s words. He was far too used to it.

This seemed to quieten Sungjong a little, pulling his eyebrows into a stern frown. “Theology doesn’t require its scholar to possess the purity of a sinless saint, such man no longer exists. Besides, my words weren’t one of insults; they were truth. You had milk dripping off of you!”

Woohyun maintained the smile on his lips, knowing it helped him build his patience. “From the same mouth that praises God you can’t utter insults. You can’t throw toxic into a clean river and expect it to remain untainted by the filth.”

“Are you quoting verses from the Bible against me? Do not forget I am the one studying theology. The Bible is my daily bread, and with it I shall gratify my spiritual hunger.”

“You may speak as holy as the priest, but your attitude shows the authenticity of your heart.”

Sungjong squinted his eyes, looking at the man walking beside him with a feeling of disdain. “I never quite liked you, Mr. Woohyun.”

“Yet, the greatest commandment is to love your neighbors as you love yourself,” Woohyun reminded with a singsong voice, knowing the other was out of arguments.

The rest of their journey was filled in peaceful silence, one making occasional commentaries, such as the sunny weather, and the latest political trends which Sungjong had never been interested in.

They arrived at the Iris Pub located at the side of an alleyway. Once inside, the two spotted Sunggyu, Sungyeol, and Myungsoo already seated at a table at the back. The three gentlemen had a small glass in front of them as they confabulated with merry laughter.

“Good day, gentlemen. I hope we aren’t too late to join the gaily occasion,” Woohyun greeted after ordering a drink for himself. Both he and Sungjong took their seats, receiving an acknowledging nod. It felt too cold and distant in juxtaposition of the loud cheers Woohyun would receive at the house.

As Sungjong sat down beside Sungyeol, the elder brother threw his gaze away to the other side. Something was amiss. Their relationship was one that needed mending, though no one knew what had fed this distance.

“Mr. Myungsoo, it is such a pleasure to meet you again. I haven’t had the chance to greet you during your wife’s party last time. By the by, it was an exquisite evening,” Woohyun started his lavish sweet talking, motioning his fingers to emphasize the greatness of the event.

“Thank you, Mr. Nam. My wife tells me you had selected a… very interesting guest. You became quite the talk after she made her grand exit, and you yourself took off not long afterwards,” Myungsoo spoke calmly with no hint of any excessive emotions. He was a public notary, trained to remain neutral at all times to not present any biased opinions to others. His expressionless emotion was a weapon of self-defense, but he was, in fact, observing.

“She is the subject of our meeting today, isn’t she?” Sunggyu interrupted, sharing a furtive nod with Myungsoo before proceeding. He now turned to Woohyun with interest, though his eyes appeared far too lazy to show any curiosity. “I must firstly engage you in several questions, Woohyun.”

“If such has to be done to prove my loyalty, so shall be it,” Woohyun answered, gulping down his glass. There was nothing he had to fear, knowing there were no crimes he had trespassed.

“How close have you gotten to the orphans?” Sunggyu spoke, wincing his eyes and twitching his lips in slight disgust. He spoke of the orphans as if they were filthy animals.

“I have made quite some progress. The orphans have taken a liking in me,” Woohyun spoke proudly, knowing the information would please his partners.

“How about Jang Dongwoo and his sister themselves? Were you able to bond with them?” Sunggyu continued his interrogation.

“I see no hindrance to my relationship with either of them,” Woohyun stopped, pausing himself here. In fact, he knew Hyunmi’s sullen hatred for the rich could become an obstacle as much as it could cause his failure. Then again, he would like to believe she had softened up toward him, or perhaps, stopped including him within the cumulative group she constantly fumed over.

“Good. Then I see no reason for any objection if we were to hurt them,” Sunggyu continued, the corner of his lips curving upward to a malicious smirk.

“Hurt them?”

“Would you be against it?”

“What sort of pain were you thinking of inflicting?”

Sunggyu stayed quiet, observing Woohyun’s unusual reaction. The small delay in his answers accounted to his hesitation towards the idea, thus suggesting he had grown more fond of the orphans than he admitted. Then again, Woohyun was never on par with Sunggyu’s ambition the way Sungyeol was. Sungyeol had nothing to sacrifice, not even caring for his own brother Sungjong. Woohyun, though he appeared arrogant at times, possessed the frailest heart. For that reason, Sunggyu could never promote him.

He interrupted the tense atmosphere by exerting a merry laughter, seeing the frown form on Woohyun’s face. “How foolish of you to think we shall resort to such measures! It will only bring us shame. No, we have gathered today to confirm our options with Mr. Myungsoo.”

“Indeed,” Myungsoo interjected calmly, not joining Sunggyu’s joyful mood for he had no reason to laugh along. His focus was strictly on his work as he retrieved the documents. “As the law states, a property may only be owned by a male individual. Even at a time when Mr. Jang wishes to hand over the house, no one else has the right to protest against it, not even his sister.”

Sunggyu observed Woohyun’s expression, noting his knotted eyebrows and arched lips; a solemn look of confusion trying its hardest to solve a puzzle. “You understand what this entails, do you not?”

“Certainly, even I could tell,” Sungjong said proudly.

“Hush! You shall better keep your opinions to yourself. Your voice isn’t needed for our consideration,” Sungyeol immediately shushed his younger brother, showing no mercy in his firm tone.

Woohyun noticed the small flicker in Sungjong’s gaze, his pride crumbling into an abyss of shame. He had seen this pattern repeated countless of times, and every single time, searched for an aversion to take the shame away from the young man.

“What does it mean?” Woohyun feigned his inability to comprehend.

“It means your sole focus should be to convince the retarded brother into signing a deal,” Sunggyu laid it out for him, straight and harsh. He shoved one of Myungsoo’s documents closer to Woohyun; the legal contract outlining the ownership of the country house.

“A retarded brother? I have never heard of such a thing! Let me walk back with you again, Mr. Woohyun. I wish to greet the clown!” Sungjong said delightfully, cackling to himself a sardonic laughter. He was quick to recover from his brother’s pitiful remark.

“I pray he shall harm you. The lunatic isn’t caged in a way he should be,” Sungyeol cursed his own brother.

“Your words are too harsh,” Woohyun immediately spoke.

“Is that so?” Again, Sunggyu couldn’t help to make his observations, detecting the growing weakness of their current plan. This wouldn’t do. “Woohyun, I suppose it is time for you to return to the orphanage. You musn’t keep them waiting, or they shall harbor suspicions.”

“Our meeting must be kept short, I suppose. Until we meet again,” Woohyun spoke, bidding them adieu as he got up on his feet.

“Well, take that good for nothing lad with you. What are you waiting here for? Go with him, you lousy ratbag!” Sungyeol addressed this speech to his younger brother, always so fond to promote their feud in public.

“E… Excuse me, then, I bid my farewell,” Sungjong stammered, not daring to spare his brother a glance, quickly trailing after Woohyun who waited by the door of the Iris Pub.

“You needn’t be so rough on him,” Myungsoo reminded. “He is only a boy.”

“And that is his greatest sin; to exist in a world where his presence is unwanted!” Sungyeol exclaimed with a bounce of his fist, the table trembling at his retaliation.

“Now, now, away with your anger. We must focus on our real purpose of gathering,” Sunggyu said, a malign grin deploring his lips. “As I feared, Woohyun isn’t suitable for the task we presented him with. But let us wait and see how far his endeavor takes him before we need to lend him a hand.”

***

Woohyun maintained a steady pace behind Sungjong, watching the younger boy drag his feet on the ground like the death, kicking pebbles away from his dejected path. The journey ahead would be a long and dreaded one had they remained in silence, so Woohyun decided to start a conversation.

“Your brother still treats you with the coldness that surpasses the greatest winter over the years.”

“If you wish to laugh in my face and take his side, then do so and let it pass. I do not need you to add more to my misery. I have been insulted enough as it is,” Sungjong mumbled, never looking back.

“Has it never occured to you this may be a test of patience? You are keeping your patience very well, which is a virtue for men.”

“Mr. Woohyun, I detest you for your optimism for they are foolish at times. A test of patience wouldn’t last for a lifetime; where would my reward be for enduring this hardship? It is a punishment to a crime I am not even aware of.”

“Why should you seek reward in a hardship? Isn’t the growth you accomplished through it enough of a reward? You speak of yourself as a blameless man, which I believe, would contradict your earlier statement,” Woohyun pointed out.

“I ain’t a saint, but I haven’t committed a crime deserving of such ill treatment. I very well understand what classifies a person as a sinner, and I would rather lock myself up in disturbing isolation than to behave with such transgressions. I shall never lower myself to the likes of those who deliberately chooses a path as a sin—”

The lad stopped speaking when all of a sudden, from the other end of the street, a female came running like her life was being chased. She kept her eyes to the back, blinded to the young man walking in front of her, which resulted in an unwanted collision.

Woohyun winced when he saw both sides stumble down against the trottoir, groaning in pain. He observed the female, guessing she was around Rika’s age from her youthful face. Though she possessed none of Rika’s pacifist qualities and burned with the flames of a warrior more destructive than Hyunmi’s.

“My apologies—”

“You dratted boy! Look what you've done! I shall pray for your damned tarnation in hell for obstructing my path,” the girl shouted at Sungjong, shocking both males with her foul language.

From her ragged and thin clothes, they knew she wasn’t of the upper class, nor a servant at a rich man's house. But from her speech, they induced she was an uneducated person.

“How dare you curse at me?” Sungjong retaliated, withdrawing his intention to apologize. He quickly got up to his feet at the same time as she nimbly did.

“I dare curse at anyone I want, especially that of a cursed boy whose existence has only brought agony to my life. Out of my way!”

Woohyun frowned a little, finding an eerie resemblance in her speech. It reminded him of someone who tend to speak their mind without consideration for others. Hyunmi had been careful with her mocking insults, but someone else spewed anger as he pleased. Ah yes, the girl’s rudeness reminded him of Youngtaek.

He hadn’t realized then, that every single quality he found in the girl unconsciously trailed him back to the orphans. Without knowing, they had already invaded his thoughts.

“I shall not move until you have delivered an apology that is due! No female speaks to a male in such a degrading way and gets away with it. You speak like a strumpet! A harlot, that is what you are!” Sungjong shouted back, having been caught in a stormy mood after a quarrel with his brother.

The girl’s face contorted into a sudden expression of pure horror, her muscles relaxing in the way it contracted. It was a strange look for someone as young as her. As if her youth was lost to the malicious exposure of the world.

In that moment of silence, she hadn’t heard the approaching footsteps of whoever chased after her. Her thoughts snapped back in an instant and she changed her attitude by taking shelter behind Sungjong. A man emerged wearing the outfit of a police officer.

“Mr. Lee Howon!” Woohyun exclaimed, his eyes brightening at the appearance of a familiar face. Though he had never been acquainted to the man, he was present to witness Mr. Lee’s official promotion to a police officer. “Pleasure meeting you here.”

“Mr. Nam, I hadn’t expected to find you here,” Howon spoke, eyes darting to Sungjong and the girl who threw away her destructive nature to find protection from her enemy. “I have been tasked to retrieve Miss Shin. She is a runaway from a nearby tavern, and is requested to return immediately.”

“No! Such lies! I shall never return to that wretched place. Damn you!”

Sungjong remained idle and didn’t struggle against Hoya who captured her. He handled her with no regard to her gender, pulling her arm to the point her sleeves fell back, revealing a strange circular mark or wound below her wrist. Sungjong continued ignoring as shouted profanities to the rest who were silent witnesses.

“Damn all of you!”

Then she was gone along with Howon.

“Ha! What a strange girl! She curses me and talks in an undignified manner, but as it turns out, she is a runaway worker. Oh the shame!” Sungjong spoke, raising his voice in the hope the girl could hear his insults even at a distance.

“What do you suppose her workplace required for her to initiate such an escape?” Woohyun wondered out loud, certain there was more to what they had witnessed.

“Does it matter? A lunatic as her should be put in place!”

Sungjong clearly used the poor girl as an object to vex his dispute with his brother at. He did not care for her or the strange encounter, wishing to forget about it soon, but Woohyun couldn’t help but persist in his skepticism. He continued to bask in his thoughts, wondering what could trigger the earlier event. He was no stranger to such occurrences, and if the runaway wasn’t a lunatic, something must’ve been amiss. Though the girl seemed to possess the ability to defend herself well.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Mr. Woohyun, which is highly unusual for your obnoxious chatters. Is something bugging your mind?”

Woohyun scoffed, quite impressed at his keen observations. “It is a matter confined for adults; nothing for a young one such as yourself to concern with.”

“Ah, if it’s matters of love and affections, I have had some expertise to share you with,” Sungjong made a quick assumption, putting his chest out with brimming pride. He brought up another topic he had observed. “Perhaps you feel guilty having to betray Miss Jang. The way I see it, your eyes reflected genuine joy when you are with her.”

“Such is the performance of a remarkable actor,” Woohyun said with an arrogant smirk.

“No. Your pretension is shown through your sweet words that bites back like a snake’s venom, but you can never feign the gaze through your eyes. Even I saw it, and I have seen you trying to deceive people multiple times, Mr. Woohyun!”

“Speak all you want, but only I shall know the truth. I am not an amateur to engage in the scenarios of a romance novel,” Woohyun dismissed the theory with a loud laugh.

Sungjong, not missing a chance to tease the elder, continued to describe more details he had examined. He was always quite the observer if he had kept his mouth shut, for he had the ability to make one doubt the truth.

At last, the two returned to the country home where Woohyun now resided. They spotted three boys kicking around a football, whom Woohyun recognized as Donghyun, Sungyoon, and Dongwoo—he seemed youthful enough to be mistaken for a young boy.

Donghyun was the first to look up, noticing their presence. “They have returned! They have returned!” He shouted with such joy, leaping to his feet as he ran to wrap his tiny hands around Woohyun’s waist.

“Have you missed me then?” Woohyun asked, tousling the younger boy’s head.

“Very much! Even mother has been sad after your departure,” Donghyun grinned innocently as he continued feeding information during his absence.

“Has she now?” Woohyun couldn’t help but grin at this statement, filling his heart with childlike giddiness.

“ _Mother_?” Sungjong interrupted, requesting for some explanation.

“The orphans refer to Miss Hyunmi as their mother,” Woohyun explained briefly.

Sungjong scrunched his eyebrows, looking confused when another orphan started pointing at him, laughing deliriously with a happiness he couldn't account for.

“Friend! Friend!” Dongwoo was now chaotically cheering. He grabbed Sungjong by the hands to acquaint himself.

Sungjong, clearly disgusted by their ways, immediately slapped his hands away and wiped it at the side of his trouser. He felt ill at once, prone to any contagious disease or curse the other carried. The man was strange, and Sungjong quickly identified Dongwoo as the retard Sunggyu was talking about. He did seem as if the devil had possessed him.

“There he is! He has returned and brought a friend!” Sungyoon was yelling now as he went into the house to retrieve everyone else. They all scurried outside just the night before, welcoming Woohyun like a lost family member had returned.

Leading the march at the center was none other than Hyunmi, and upon sighting her, a fleeting smile appeared on Woohyun’s face. He didn’t realize he had taken eager steps to meet her, stopping at a few inches distance.

“I heard you’ve been dejected during my absence,” Woohyun started.

“What an unreliable source. Who have you heard that from?” She retorted at once.

“Your beloved son, Donghyun.”

“Well, he tends to confuse reality with fantasies sometimes.”

Woohyun maintained his smile, taking another stride forward as she remained rooted in place. “Have you not missed me at all? Have I not crossed your mind at all during my absence? Have you not wished I had returned sooner?”

Hyunmi blinked her eyes to his inquiries, surprised her heart reacted to his words again. She knew very well the answer was a ‘yes’ to all three questions, though she convinced herself of possible reasonings to onset such silly feelings.

“Your baggage was still in the room. I wondered what to do with your belongings during an adversity should you be gone,” she commenced.

“Why, you should distribute my belongings to the children here. I thought you would decipher it through your intelligence,” Woohyun teased, laughing at her obvious lie.

“How generous you are for the standards of a wealthy gentleman. You must have all women worshipping you for such generosity,” Hyunmi continued with a scornful grin.

“Does that include yourself?”

“Every women except me.”

“Well then,” Woohyun concluded, bending forward to whisper into her ear, “That gives me all the more reason to want you.”

His straightforwardness made her recoil backwards, away from him and his sweet poisonous talk. She placed both hands against her chest in an attempt to hide the chaotic clamoring of her heart. It wasn’t supposed to react in a degraditory manner, neither was it supposed to be noticed.

“Hyunmi, what has this man said to cause your cheeks to burn ablaze?” Youngtaek questioned defensively, not knowing what the flushed color entailed in such situations.

“She is blushing,” Rika answered.

“I am not!” The elder shouted in denial. “Now, return to the house at once. Mr. Nam has returned, but we shan’t make a show out of it.”

As everyone giddily giggled or talked through each other while entering the house, Hyunmi turned to the visitor Woohyun brought with him. “Mr Sungjong, you are welcome to stay for the night and rest if you will.”

“I would rather die than sleep in a place surrounded by the lower class. My brother says it reeks of diseases. Your lunatic isn’t even caged!” Sungjong answered.

“What?” Hyunmi was about to storm to him and give a piece of her mind, but Woohyun quickly held her back with awkward laughter, preventing a scene from ensuing. Sungjong had the mindset of the typical rich, as taught by his family since an early age. Touching the poor was dangerous, and touching the sick was a sin. Sungjong wouldn’t risk it, especially since the so called retard was present in the house.

“Mr. Woohyun, you must wash yourself! You are holding her filthy wrist!” Sungjong cried, seeing the sacrifice the elder had indulged himself in.

“Oh, this is naught. If I could, I’d wish to hold her entirely,” he said this as he playfully embraced his arms around her petite frame, expecting her to swiftly move away, but was met by an incorrect assumption. She stood still, fitting into his embrace like a missing puzzle piece.

He was reminded of the morning when he pulled her against himself; of the comfort he found in the stance, and the disappointment that followed when letting go. Those exact feelings returned to his heart like home pigeons finding its way back home.

Upon his own realization at their situation, he immediately released her and surrendered his hands up, watching her reaction. She had grown quiet instead of her usual protests, she hadn’t tried to push him away, and he didn’t detect any emotion of trembling fear.

“I… I must go to the others,” she murmured, bowing to Sungjong in a daze before walking to the house. Her steps were firm and rigid, presenting an awkward manner to escape him.

The view delighted him and he felt a familiarity rekindle the warmth in his heart. “Interesting lady, is she not?” Woohyun asked, turning to the young man with a grin.

“It does not matter. You seem to have forgotten what Mr. Sunggyu told you,” Sungjong reminded, lowering his voice to a whisper. “He told you to focus on the brother, for he is the only one who can sign the paper. The sister adds no value to this quest.”

Woohyun realized his mistake, recalling the command handed to him. And yet, everytime Hyunmi came in sight, he wondered why everything became a hazy blur, all except for her.


	8. Challenge

Time, as an essence, was no friend to men. Its effervescent nature caused a downfall in many attempts for success. Woohyun was no stranger to this concept, forced to make constant sacrifices at the verge of a decision. Whom had he to offer his time to today?

According to their recent meeting, he had to try and become closer to Dongwoo. For days now, he spent more time with the man older than him; the puerile spirit kept the elder forever young.

“You cook,” Dongwoo said one time, pointing at Woohyun. The wide smile on his face was free from any blemish or malign, containing no hidden meaning to his innocent request.

“Do you suppose your sister would let me use the kitchen?” Woohyun asked, chuckling at the request.

“Yes! Hyunmi likes you!” Dongwoo exclaimed, which was perhaps the most proper sentence he had formed in years. The intelligence of his word woven together caught people’s attention by surprise, but it was the content that truly perplexed them.

“It seems Spring arrives early this year, and flowers blossom with each passing second,” Joochan spoke melancholically, gazing into the far distance as his fingers plucked a romantic tune to fill the atmosphere.

Woohyun’s usual confidence turned into a sheepish laughter, trying to hide the weird feeling tiptoeing around his chest. Perhaps he was a step closer to his goal to deceive, but genuine joy penetrated his heart instead of a sense of accomplishment.

“Mother would scold at you if she heard your senseless words,” Jangjun spoke to Dongwoo, though he didn’t put much of a protest against it.

“Nonsense! Dongwoo is only speaking the truth, and I agree with him,” Rika added, clasping her hands together in ecstacy. “This is perfect, Mr. Nam. You should court mother and ask for her hand in marriage.”

“Marriage? Is mother truly in love with Mr. Nam? Well, I must call him my father then,” Donghyun was quick to make the connection between their argument, looking at the fine man with newfound affection.

While the orphans began to squeal among themselves with fictional narratives, Woohyun only emitted an awkward chuckle. He was merely challenged by Dongwoo to prove his artistry as a chef, and yet it stirred the topic of a marriage proposal. To what extent should he take this act? If he were to marry Hyunmi, he had a higher chance of attaining the land, but the idea went against his personal value. He wanted to marry for love; not for a personal gain.

At this time, Hyunmi, Youngtaek, and Daeyeol returned from the market. They stared in surprise at the others who were gathered at the living room, chatting happily with Woohyun at the center.

“What brings forth such a merry atmosphere?” Daeyeol questioned curiously, setting the basket on the kitchen counter.

“Hearken, a marriage is on its way,” Joochan chimed, continuing to play a tune even with his eyes clothes.

“Oh? Whose marriage is it?” Hyunmi asked, stifling a small laughter at their nonsensical conversation.

“Yours, mother. Mr. Nam will ask for your hand in marriage!” Donghyun was very eager to spread the false news. Yet, the incorrect statement was supported by others’ triumphant cheers.

“What is this nonsense?” Youngtaek put up an immediate protest. How could the others easily trust such misleading words?

Hyunmi herself had no idea how the idea was brought about or how to cope with the statement. Her cheeks flushed red from embarrassment rather than bashfulness. The thought itself was sickening; not for harboring a deep hatred towards Woohyun—she had grown more lenient to his presence despite her eager denial—but Hyunmi hated the idea of being bound to a man and the notion of becoming a man’s property. She despised a marriage.

“They are uttering nonsense. I haven’t had a clue how such conclusion was formed. Dongwoo merely challenged me to cook a meal for him when the others got distracted,” Woohyun explained the situation, carefully watching her changing emotion. “Which reminds me, I need your permission to use the kitchen. May I?”

“Oh,” her voice was shrill from her speechlessness. She cleared her throat to test her speech before proceeding. “I would love to see what kind of disaster you’d be in the kitchen. Though if you break any equipment, I shall request you to replace it with one with twice its original value.”

“You sly woman, you try to launder me off my money!” Woohyun noted, though he grinned while saying so. Something about her scheme was charmingly appealing. He never encountered such traits in an upperclass woman; they constantly tries seducing him to gain his wealth. Hyunmi never seduced, instead challenging him in ways to strive for improvements. It was a strange effect, but one he preferred.

“You offered to pay twice the rent for our hospitality at letting you stay here. Shouldn‘t this offer apply to everything else during your stay?” Hyunmi asked.

“How clever you are. I can pay you twice as much with the affection I hold dear for you.”

Hyunmi chuckled, which was rather surprising to the others. Had she grown accustomed to his words, or did her heart become receptive of him? “Wouldn’t it amount to naught when I bear no such affection for you?”

“I shall prove my skills in the kitchen. By that time, I can guarantee you won’t be able to resist me.”

“And I can guarantee it won’t happen,” she said with a vivacious grin, leaving him to be in the kitchen. She went to be with the rest of the orphans, though sometimes, her gaze continued trailing back to him. She had to ensure he wouldn’t burn down the kitchen—or their house.

Now Woohyun proved to be quite adapt in the field, his exaggeration met by sheer reality of the truth. The olfactory sense of savory sweetness filled the entire room, and everyone felt their stomach growling to be fed. But the chef had not completed his craft.

“You have exceeded my expectations. This is a dish Dongwoo would enjoy very much.” Jangjun appeared by his side, sneaking a sniff at the soup he was brewing.

“I am certain he would. No one has ever rejected my meal,” Woohyun said proudly. It was an exaggeration, of course. He kept this skill hidden from the majority of the world, yet ended up being exposed due to his vain need for approval.

“And I am certain your unfortunate test subjects were your own parents,” Youngtaek galled with morose. The elder nodded proudly in acknowledgement, greatly annoying Youngtaek who failed to belittle him. “This solves the mystery for your unmatched arrogance. Your parents have been feeding you lies since your birth. It is by no surprise you don’t possess any quality of concern or humility.”

“I do not possess humility when I am quite adept at many things. I have yet to find a weakness. However, I do show concern towards others when it is due,” Woohyun spoke, and even his answer showed his unintended arrogance. Youngtaek’s words contained the truth, and the wealthy environment did feed Woohyun his pride.

“It is quite a puzzle why a perfect man such as yourself hasn’t found a companion,” Jangjun began, trying to find the mirth in Woohyun’s words, seeking pleasure in his attempt to match him with Hyunmi. It would elevate Rika’s joy, acclaiming his only purpose at the moment.

“Well, I have found plenty of potential companions, but none of which were compatible to my taste. None of them were genuine; they either want me for my wealth or my handsome face,” Woohyun said with woeful misery.

Jangjun laughed whereas Youngtaek showed an expression of pure disgust. How can one utter agony while displaying arrogance within the same statement?

“If you find a woman who adores you despite your shortcomings, you must keep her, for she is a gem hidden between the rocks,” Woohyun shared another piece of advice to the two younger ones. “Jangjun, I do hope your feelings will be reciprocated.”

“My feelings? Towards whom?” Jangjun feigned stupidity. His face reddened at the topic alone. He was a terrible liar.

“Why, towards Rika, of course! The gaze in your eyes says it all. I have nearly been here for one month, but I saw your sincerity towards her since our first encounter,” Woohyun spoke with such glee. There was something remarkably pleasing about seeing the two rekindle their affection, though Rika was unaware of it for now. “Do you wish to deny my claims? It can’t be. You love her!”

“Hush for now, Mr. Nam. I do not want her to find out and nurture ill feelings towards me,” Jangjun spoke, trying to silence the elder who continued laughing.

“Why are you so certain she would hate you? Mayhap, she harbors the same feelings. A man should always take the initiative to court his woman.”

“But, I haven’t reached my twenties. I do not have money to provide for the both of us after marriage,” Jangjun spoke his deepest dilemma. He expected Woohyun to offer words of consolation, but instead, received a laughter delighting in his adversity.

“What a dunce,” Youngtaek muttered, seethed in his loathing.

“Forgive me, but you were speaking of marriage. You could engage in a relationship without a marriage in the near future,” Woohyun spoke with his conceding laugh. He nudged the other at the side of his arm. “The subject of a marriage seems to preoccupy your mind, even earlier. You must court her first before moving further.”

“I suppose I have gotten ahead of myself. I must muster the courage to tell her my feelings first.” Jangjun swallowed his saliva, afraid of what lied in his future.

“Yes, it is the proper manner to fight the remorse of regret.”

“Can I find validity in your statement for my situation?” Youngtaek asked, taking a sudden interest in the subject.

“You may try. Although in your case, I can only predict failure,” Woohyun said, forcing his lips into a vain grin.

“How so?” Poor Youngtaek inquired with confusion.

Woohyun could easily provoke the younger one by proclaiming himself as Hyunmi’s suitor. However, he set a goal to attain everyone’s heart and needed to avoid conflict. So he settled for a safe answer, “You are too young.”

And as Woohyun laughed, Youngtaek was surprised to find his friend Jangjun joining the mirth.

“I have told you so,” Jangjun spoke in a singsong voice.

“Now help me set the table. The food’s ready to be savored,” Woohyun spoke.

A giddy Jangjun obeyed immediately, even if Youngtaek remained unmoved in his seat. In no time, the others gathered at the dining table, watching the pot of soup set before them. The delicious aroma only grew stronger at its completion, and everyone felt themself salivating inwardly in anticipation.

“You have erased my perception about the rich. You can cook!” Daeyeol exclaimed, having shared the same judgemental opinion as Hyunmi did. He was ready to pick up the ladle when Donghyun softly slapped his arm away.

“We must say grace first, mustn't we, Mr. Nam?”

“Certainly, Donghyun. And it would be an honor to have you, the wisest among us all, to lead us into a heartfelt prayer.”

Woohyun’s lavish words weren’t only wielded against women, but they bore the charming quality to attract anyone to his friendliness. He saw the growing smile on Donghyun’s face who was more than happy to lead them. Woohyun had done a splendid job at befriending them, possessing knowledge to approach every individual in different manners. With Dongwoo, for example, he released the rigid formalities he was taught, and indulged in passing seconds of jubilee.

“Allow me to feed you as a token of my victory against your ill judgements,” Woohyun said out loud, taking a spoon in his hand, dancing his way to the elder at the head of the table.

“No! No!” Dongwoo resisted verbally, but his lips curved into a blissful smile when Woohyun approached. Even Jangjun and Youngtaek joined in to hold him still by both arms, leaving him no choice but to accept the victor’s reward.

“It has a delightful taste, does it not?” Rika asked, watching Dongwoo’s pupil dilate as his taste buds greeted a foreign taste of delicacy.

“Good! Very good!” Dongwoo exclaimed, reaching out to Woohyun’s hand to retrieve the spoon. Then he started feasting on the meal like a starving barbarian.

The sight pleased Woohyun, but his ambition aimed for a bigger victory. He returned and slid back into his chair, repositioning himself closer to Hyunmi.

She pretended not to notice, suppressing her irritation at her disturbed dinner. She continued eating despite his constant staring.

“Seeing the eagerness with which you swallow my dish, I must assume you have procured a great veneration towards this wonderful man in front of you,” Woohyun said, allowing anyone to detect the vanity of his speech.

Hyunmi returned his smile and shifted herself perpendicular to his view. “I wish to compromise you for your talent. You may continue engaging a woman’s duty in the kitchen if you’d like,” she spoke. Of course, her excitement was only driven by her need to ridicule him.

“As long as it bears the ability to please you, and to abstain you and the others from hunger, I would willingly do it,” he retorted, perfectly countering her mockery with lavish affection. By now, he had obtained knowledge of certain statements that could make her bashful. So he continued.

“Ah, I must have witnessed an angel’s smile earlier. I watched as your eyes trail toward me and your brother, and upon your lips sat the most wonderful smile found in the world. I haven't had a clue whom the smile was meant for, but I witnessed it, and it has blessed me profusely.”

This exaggeration made Hyunmi laugh, averting some attention to herself. The orphans had not expected the much detested rich guy to bring forth her joyful emotion.

“Do you wish it was aimed for you?” She asked.

“Yes. Otherwise, I am afraid my heart shall envy the man on the receiving end of the angel’s smile.”

“There are times, such as this, where you puzzle me greatly, Mr. Nam. With the way you treat me using such sweet words, I tend to forget my position within our hierarchy. You inflict in me a sinful feeling—a hope—a chance to be treated as an equal. To live in a world where the disparity between the rich and poor comes to a cessation. Why do you do this?”

“Is it sinful to offer someone hope?” Woohyun questioned, his voice lowered to a soft whisper. He hadn’t realized his fingers beginning to run along the strands of her long hair, nearly touching and caressing the side of her cheek. “Your company is one I enjoy very much. If displaying my affection towards you is considered a sin, then let me be the greatest sinner of all.”

Hyunmi felt her heart starting to prance against her chest, tickling with a feeling she wished to not nurture. Yet, it wasn’t its first visitation, nor the second—Woohyun continuously succeeded to make her blush, though she always concealed it with another excuse. Her defenses were growing weaker and weaker, soon melting into a complete state of depletion.

“Do not speak of such things with ease,” she resumed, managing to feign composure in front of the culprit. “I do not wish to make a sinner out of you.”

“Perhaps it is too late. My feelings for you may be considered forbidden by the society, yet I shall continue my pursuit. Therefore, I have willingly become a sin—”

Woohyun halted, feeling a small tug in his heart when she suddenly leaned forward to him, placing her hand over his mouth. From up close, he couldn’t resist her aromatic scent he had caught before, a faint mixture of vanilla and light floral. He adored the sweet fragrance, as sweet as her soft and tender hand against his lips. He showed no resistance against it.

“Speak no more of such nonsense.”

“But surely you must be aware of the most effective way to seal a man’s lips,” Woohyun suggested after gently taking her hand aside. “I am speaking of a kiss.”

Hyunmi shrieked in horror, quickly releasing him. By now, the pounding of her heart became audible in her hearing. Her entire face turned red, and she would have no excuse against it. The thought took away her bold confidence, suddenly conforming to the feelings of a little school girl.

“Though I am very delighted with the progress between the two of you, if you were to move to a more intimate stage of your relationship, I would prefer you stay out of public’s eye,” Rika spoke, grinning to herself. Of course, the two were outwardly displaying such coquettish behavior in front of others.

“My mind summoned a great plan to grant the two of you some privacy; you may talk in the kitchen while you wash the dishes,” Daeyeol suggested eagerly. This announcement came as a big surprise, for Daeyeol tend to be the most rational one. But his idea earned the support of everyone else who cheered in agreement.

“No! I shall object!” Youngtaek shouted in protest, but the weak Donghyun grabbed him by his arm, wisely shaking his head to dismiss his upcoming protest.

It was by no surprise the orphan believed a certain chemistry could blossom between the two. Woohyun wasn’t like the usual rich men they encountered; he was much nicer in conduct, pleasing to talk to, and never discriminated against anyone. But most importantly, he seemed to harbor genuine affections towards their mother.

Obtaining their support was a part of Woohyun’s plan, and he should treat this accomplishment with feelings of pride. But instead, he felt a sense of relieve that came rather unexpected. Even the beating in his chest refused to stop, and he tried finding ways to deflect it. He had thought of the perfect excuse, but Hyunmi surpassed him first with her speech.

“The two of us shall wash the dishes and I ask all of you to leave us some privacy. I’d like to be alone with Mr. Nam,” Hyunmi spoke, deliberately choosing ambiguous words to amuse the children with. Little did she know, her speech sparked more amusement in him.

“You have become quite possessive of me,” he remarked.

“Are you opposed to it?”

Woohyun halted, noticing a drastic change in her attitude. He had seen this pattern before with other women. People tend to feign friendliness in order to gain something. Hyunmi requested private time not to fulfil their romantic fantasies, but to talk to him under private eyes. He did not know the subject of their upcoming meeting, neither did he understand his disappointment that it couldn’t have been more than a mere meeting.

“Not at all,” he lied. “I shall never oppose your wishes.”

It was yet another lie. If she had wished for him to depart from her life, to pass each other by as strangers, or to forget the sweet memories made at the house, he would undoubtedly oppose.


	9. Tale

They may be young, but wisdom and maturity was not determined by someone’s age. As soon as dinner ended, the orphans eagerly stacked their plates together, then ran upstairs to leave the entire floor deserted. Youngtaek was against their foolish schemes, but the others carried him upstairs to prevent a protest from ensuing—the lad was tall but skinny, easing up the carrying process even as he struggled.

The ridicule of the situation made Woohyun laugh. The atmosphere here was always filled with such warmth and mirth, whereas back home, the coldness was as sufferable as a cold winter night. The joy of its inhabitants spread like wildfire, and hitherto, he had felt the blaze raging over him with encapsulated joy.

He watched Hyunmi run the water faucet, the flowing water pouring out in small streams resembling the tinkling of raindrops. Sungyoon could’ve fixed it if it was no longer functioning, but Woohyun had a feeling she indulged in a prudent behavior due to their austere situation. His thoughts were interrupted by her sudden request, handing him a clean and an old rag to dry the plates with. He compiled without protest in the hope she would converse more, but her silence that followed afterwards was extremely disturbing.

“For what reason have you requested to speak to me under private eye? You detest me too much to engage in a clandestine conversation,” he began.

Hyunmi peered towards him for a brief second, but soon returned her attention to the dirty plate in her hands. Her lips grinned in a penchant manner to tease him. “What strange modesty departed your lips? Where is the confidence indubitable of my beckoning for your stay?”

“My confidence has not departed me. However, I sense you still detest me presently.”

“You are mistaken,” Hyunmi said, ensuring she wouldn’t turn to meet his eyes, “I quite like you.”

Woohyun halted his movements, turning to her with wide eyes of surprise. His mouth fell open into a shape unable to articulate a single word, wanting to hear the rest of her continuation. Yes, his heart was more than eager to hear the rest.

“Not in the sense of courtship,” Hyunmi quickly corrected, realizing the misinterpretation her speech could brew. But a glance at Woohyun, and he seemed to have been enchanted, still wishing for more elaboration.

“Then, in what sense do you _quite_ like me?” He persisted eagerly.

Hyunmi pursed her lips, frowning her eyebrows in search for an answer. She had known it all along, and recent events only edified her theories. For this very reason, she requested to speak to him in private tonight.

“You are different, Mr. Nam,” she said, turning off the water faucet to grant him her full attention. And as she spoke, a delirious smile played on the tip of her lips, nearly exposing the peculiar gratitude toward him.

“How so?”

“You treat my brother as an equal. You treat all of us as equals. When your friend visited—Mr. Sungjong, I believe—he refused to shake hands with my mentally ill brother. The society considers any physical contact with the sick a sin; believes their filthiness can turn a pure soul unclean. But why are you unaffected, Mr. Nam?”

Woohyun stared at her, the words having escaped his tongue. He hesitated forming a reply, wondering whether her question was rhetorical.

“That day, you even…” Hyunmi halted, turning her head away from him as a red blush crept up her cheeks like two blooming roses. She wetted her lower lip and continued in a sotto voce resonance, “You embraced me.”

Woohyun chose silence this time, unable to retrieve an answer to her riddle. Why should he embrace her within his arms? Why should he resume a heroic act to save her from a falling cabinet? He convinced himself the reason was the contract, but that argument was nullified considering she had no influence or authority over it.

“I wish to hear an explanation,” she said after his long moment of silence.

Woohyun saw an opportunity to elevate her affirmation towards him. Deceiving methods would not impress her—her intelligence allowed her to discern a lie from the truth. To be rewarded with her praise, he had to display brutal honesty.

“We were all created equal. The book of life never placed an advocacy towards discrimination, never taught us to draw a boundary between differing social classes. Instead, we need to seek humility and love our neighbors in the same manner we love ourselves.”

Hyunmi’s lips grazed into a smile, a rush of satisfaction approving his reply. The absence of a vain statement showcased his main principles and morality; him who bore a pure desire to obliterate the disparity among men. Perhaps this was the real him all along.

“Seeing how much you love yourself, I am not surprised at the manner with which you grace all of us an abundance of adoration,” she continued deliriously, knowing he was always prepared with a clever rejoinder.

“Out of everyone, I relinquish the majority of my affections for you.”

“It is quite endearing to see your effortless pursuit in deceiving me when I am already aware of your intention,” she said this in a lighthearted manner to deflect his flirtatious words. “However, I need you to enlighten me once again, Mr. Nam. How were you able to conform to such a differing mindset? Did your parents teach you the principles of loving one another?”

“No, not at all,” he answered without hesitation, not sparing his parents a presentable image. The only fear striking his heart was the need to become completely transparent; to confess a tale worthy of condemnations. However, a still small voice reassured she wouldn’t play the judge over him.

“Loneliness was my only companion as a child. My parents traveled from cities to cities, and the duration could extend from days to months. Being left alone on numerous occasion, I sought for companionship from,” he hesitated, afraid to meet her eyes, but proceeded nonetheless. “From the servants. The distance between us was non existent, and I delighted in our interactions. Hence, I made an oath not to abstain my kindness from those struck by poverty.”

His tale was desolate in the way it was inspiring. The world regarded his experience an inferiority, but her eyes uncovered the true richness of life. Hyunmi stared with a mixture of emotions; a guilt for condemning him without pertaining knowledge of his childhood, and a great veneration for his view that aligned with her own.

“The way you stare at me is identical to the manner with which Jangjun looks at Rika. Say, have you already fallen for me?” Woohyun interrupted with a teasing smile.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“But certainly you must’ve been preoccupied with different thoughts. Tell me, what is it?”

“I’ve been wondering,” She began, cleaning the remaining plate as she continued. “Why can’t everyone share your beliefs? You are a good man.”

How mistaken she was, and Woohyun couldn’t bring it upon himself to fully reveal the truth. He had managed to alleviate any skepticism formed against him, and this misunderstanding would work to his advantage. He was, by no means, a good man, but he fixed his smiled with a burdened heart and replied to her in his usual playful manner.

“Because, dear Hyunmi, if everyone likened themselves to me, it would be much harder to win your affections for myself alone. You would have to distribute them between me and all my doppelgangers,” he answered, trying to make her laugh. Indeed, he succeeded. Being the reason for the smile on her face was his greatest reward.

“How are you so certain? It must be your arrogance speaking. Also, I do not wish for you to address me without honorifics,” she said, losing the sternness in her voice. Compared to their first encounter, she had grown to be much more civil and receptive of him.

“Why? I take delight in calling you by your maiden’s name. Would this be considered another sin?”

“It gives the false impression of our relationship. People may mistake us for being lovers.”

“I am afraid I myself am guilty of such fault.”

His inanity made her laugh deliriously, quickly stopping herself when remembering whom she was with. She could no longer act distant or view him in a detestable manner—not when he had shared about his childhood. As a token of apology, she wished to treat him with the benevolence of a friend, but nothing more. His greatest desire laid in attaining the house, and for that reason, she would always have to be on guard.

As he dried off the final plate and set it aside, he leaned his arms against the counter, displaying a dazzling smile she had to truly protect herself from. “I await your turn to share a story.”

“What sort of story do you speak of?” She challenged, holding him in a stare.

“Your past, the orphanage, and anything you wish to share with me. I intent to get acquainted to every individual in this household.”

The initial curiosity he nurtured since the first day was finally allowed an elaboration. Despite wanting to acquaint himself to her, most of all, he still brooded a curiosity regarding the others.

“My past is not something I can speak off presently,” she started, half apologetically. After he humbled himself and openly revealed his old wounds, she felt inclined to return the same amount of transparency. However, she had to remain cautious around him. “According to the information you have obtained from our files, my brother and I are orphans ourselves. This much is true.”

The way she pressed on the particular word made him deplorable of his transgression. Obtaining the confidential document was an invasion of privacy, an imbreachment abusing authority, and not a cause worthy of bragging. He wasn’t quite certain what sort of reaction she expected out of him, so he chose to remain silent again.

“Our parents are no more, and during their death, they took everything except their children and this house. For that very reason, Mr. Nam, no monetary value could ever replace its meaning in my heart.”

Woohyun parted his lips to speak, but soon realized he had no comforting words to offer. He gained an understanding of her reluctance in signing the deal, and in that very moment, he wished to inform Sunggyu and Sungyeol to abandon their intention. He no longer possessed the confidence to complete his task; not when his own allegiance may have shifted. However, he was in no position to make decisions according to his own accord.

“Knowing the house would be too big for my brother and I, we decided to open its doors for those struck with similar misfortunes. Youngtaek and Jangjun were independent survivors on the street; one threatened for money and the other stole. They made quite a dangerous pair, but I believed they could return to the right path through proper upbringing.

Joochan was begging on the street when we found him. My brother loved listening to his tune, and requested to be played for every single day. Since then, Joochan resided with us and continues playing for my brother.

Daeyeol was quite a strange case. He was nearly seven when we met, but he wore the attire of a wealthy child. I remember the odd golden emblem of a small robin sewn on his vest, reckoning it to be some unknown family mark. I have only heard rumors of the wealthy abandoning their child, but Daeyeol was living proof of such cruel statistics. His parents told him to await their return, but never appeared to retrieve him. After weeks of waiting to no avail, he decided to take our offer and came home with us.”

“Thus, enhancing your hatred for the rich?” Woohyun confirmed.

“Indeed,” Hyunmi acknowledged through a nod. “However, nothing is as despicable as the ill treatment Donghyun experienced. It was a cold winter evening when we noticed a small bundle of clothes lying idle by the of the riverbed. Upon closer inspection, the clothing covered a small infant, too frozen to emit a woeful cry. Donghyun nearly died if we had appeared a second too late.”

“Humans are crueler than wild animals, they cannot be tamed or frightened into submission,” Woohyun added. Seeing the expression of remorse and anger engraved in her face, he had the urge to reach out to her. To hold her. To stop her tears from forming. To reassure her. But he dismissed every thought, realizing the inappropriateness. He was in no position to comfort her, though he wished for nothing more during this very moment.

“Sungyoon knocked on our door one spring day, having travelled from a faraway distance. He heard about our benevolence and wished to reside with us.”

“So he is no orphan?”

“He is, but he appeared most stable out of all without a tragic backstory.”

“And Rika? What is her tale?”

Hyunmi’s expression cleared up into an emotion too difficult to describe. A bittersweet feeling ascended her face, though she restrained her tears from appearing. A ghost smile tilted her lips.

“Rika’s mother personally surrendered her child to us. The child was only ten years of age. At first, I thought how cruel of a mother she could be to abandon her child. But the words that followed afterwards juxtaposed my initial judgements.”

“What is it?”

“She confessed of her profession as a prostitute. If I refused to accept the child, the little girl would be enslaved to prostitution for a lifetime. She was coming of age and nearly eligible for her first service. They would allow men to assault her had she remained there. So I questioned no further and swore an oath to take care of her daughter.”

A solemn silence fell upon the room, the only two inhabitants reflecting on the tales of the night. With every tale, the cruelty and inhumanity seemed to deepen—what more with Dongwoo and Hyunmi’s tale that was unheard of? However, Woohyun respected their privacy and willingly awaited her readiness to reveal.

“It’s quite tragic how one must surrender their most prized possession in order to protect it,” Hyunmi soliloquised, lost in her thoughts. The tears recollected at the corner of her eyes, surprising him who never expected her to possess such a sensitive heart.

“What became of the mother? Will she return someday to retrieve Rika?” Woohyun inquired.

“Prostitution is a dark business, though not forbidden. Many women choose this career because of its better pay than a governess at a high estate or a teacher at a private school. However, a one time involvement prevents one from escaping—no woman or child has ever succeeded. Owners station people around town to track a runaway. Rika was an underaged child and yet to engage in such service, therefore unable to be tracked down through claims of possession.”

Woohyun nodded his head thoughtfully, a sudden notion appearing. Her story bore similar contents to a recent incident, and an ominous portent clamored his heart with unease.

“Do such incidents occur frequently in town?” He asked, morphing his tone of sympathy into a morose one.

“Perhaps they do, but never to the public’s eye. They recede rumors, though I am not aware of the foul methods used.”

Woohyun had a hunch of their measures; police officers. Ever since the rise of such stations, crime rates have decreased as did the morality in people. It couldn’t have been a coincidence. The girl he and Sungjong met was crying for help, but no one was willing to lend an ear. Her desperation brought her far, but not far enough to attain true freedom.

“Why have you fallen quiet? Are you feeling unwell?” Hyunmi asked, stepping closer to measure his temperature. She nearly laid her hand against his forehead when he jolted his head upwards, surprising her with their close proximity. She immediately retracted her hand to her side, hiding her blush.

“I must make a confession,” he began, determination sparking a changing glint in his eyes. “I met a girl.”

“A girl?” She frowned bitterly, realizing she displayed the characteristics of a jealous woman. Luckily, Woohyun was too immersed in his confession to notice her faux pas.

“When I returned here with Sungjong, a girl collided against him. I suppose she was of Rika’s age, and she possessed a foul language similar to Youngtaek’s. She appeared to be in a rush, trying to escape something or someone. A police officer appeared afterwards, explaining she had escaped her workplace. So we left them be and departed ourselves.”

Hyunmi clasped her hand in front of her mouth, eyes growing blanch with horror. “Did she reveal the place she wanted to escape from?”

“No. She offered us naught. She took greater pleasure in cursing Sungjong; the poor boy never received such insulting remarks from a girl.”

“A foul language? Would you say she was uneducated?” Hyunmi continued questioning in search of a clue.

“She struck to me as a child who received too much abuse to build proper conduct.”

Hyunmi gasped, taking his hands in hers—a notion so subtle it would spark a flirtatious commentary if they had not been discussing a serious topic. In fact, it managed to distract his thoughts a little, and a different sort of panic became the cause of his tumultuous heart beating.

“We must save her! I fear her life is in grave danger. She may be labored in the manner Rika’s mother did,” she cried.

Her helplessness was a new sight. She had always presented herself as the dependable mother, and to see her display such fragility, Woohyun knew he had already obtained her trust. The very thought of his accomplishment curved his lips into a benign smile, wishing to solve the situation. He had to stay calm and rational during her time of panic; two panicked people were equivalent to two blind men trying to lead one another.

“I have formulated a plan,” he spoke. The statement was one of his many lies, yet required by the lady whose heart was currently frenzied in fear. “It is already late and we must rest. Tomorrow I shall convey to you our intended course of actions.”

“Thank you, Mr. Nam,” she said the words genuinely. She hadn’t put thoughts into her actions, forgetting she had rested her hands around his. Upon realization, she quickly retracted them and bid him farewell.

“Wait,” he called out, seizing her by her wrist in a gentle manner. “You may forgo the honorifics and call me by name. I wish for you to do so.”

Hyunmi blinked her eyes, feeling a sudden warmth invading her chest instead of her worries. “I would rather not; as I mentioned before, it would create a false illusion of our close relationship that does not exist.”

“Truly?” He asked, stepping closer towards her, his finger trailing along the side of her arm. “Your unawareness precedes you, but you happen to be the first woman I told my tale to. In fact, you are the _only_ person pertaining knowledge of my past.”

His words, his low whisper, and his breath against her skin were multiple factors to send shivers down her spine in the most elated manner possible. He had the ability to charm her, and she put in a greater effort to hold firm to reality.

“Surely you must’ve told your beloved partners,” She tested his credibility.

“They would cackle at me with derision. They are the type of rich men you despise,” Woohyun admitted, grinning a little. He leaned closer toward her, leaving his final message as a parting whisper. “I only reveal my secret to a person I cherish. And unlike you, dear Hyunmi, who _quite_ like me, I like you very much. Goodnight.”

She thought he would end the night with a peck on her cheek, for he was breathing too close in distance. Her face felt swollen from the blush creeping over her porcelain skin, and her heart continued beating fervently for him.

Only this time, perhaps, she would permit it as a notion no longer considered sinful.


	10. Rescue

To dwindle upon an impossible task lied along the borderline of foolishness and fathomless faith. Woohyun was aware he should not have made promises hardly possible to follow through. Yet, in that spur moment when the woman placed her entire faith in him, he could not bear the weight of guilt following the loss of hope in her soulful eyes.

All night, he exerted all his creativity and logic into formulating a scheme. It was rather brilliant, if he said so himself, and he hardly found a flaw that could plummet it to failure. This brilliance never found its place between Kim Sunggyu’s recognition—the man’s arrogance blinded him to the talented individuals surrounding him.

“We need two men who are of age to enter a brothel,” he told Hyunmi first thing in the morning when they were, once again, the earliest to rise. He had suspected to find her alone in the kitchen before sunrise, but her agitated movements presumed she had been as eager to meet him.

“One being yourself—”

“My apologies, I meant two people aside from myself. My familiar presence would only obstruct this plan from succeeding.”

Hyunmi nearly choked on his words, refusing to accept he frequented such a sinful place to the point of inviting familiarity. She had come to believe he was a man as noble in his moral values as his speech made him out to be. However, this revelation burdened her heart with the heaviness of disappointment, an emotion she could not conceal behind her parted lips and devastated eyes.

“Oh, no, not in that sense, dear,” Woohyun quickly corrected, chuckling at her face of aghast. Deep frowns painted her forehead, and he wondered whether they were a result of her misconception regarding his words, or a reaction towards the term of endearment he chose to test.

“Then why should you be familiar?” She questioned, and he noted the absence of protest towards the endearing term. It made his lips slip into a quick smile.

“Why, because I am handsome and wealthy. For those two notions, I have become well known throughout town.”

Hyunmi’s stifled a small chuckle against her will, a feathery relief springing her heart. The statement was as arrogant as it was true. During his persistence to invite her to Mrs. Kim Seulyi’s party, Rika recognized his name as that of a wealthy aristocrat. Perhaps the entire world had been aware of his presence before she came to learn of him, and yet, she selfishly coveted his time for herself in dire moments of need.

“Daeyeol,” she offered the name of an orphan who would aid them. The remaining orphans were of an age that would not permit them entrance to the vile place. Dongwoo was the only other person of age, but his mental condition obstructed him from partaking in the dangerous activity.

When the sun rose, they barged into Daeyeol’s room using stealth that kept a wealthy man fast asleep during a time of robbery. After a brief explanation, he was inclined to join. Despite being one of the older ones tasked as a protector, in him lied an adventurous spirit waiting to be released into the wilderness.

“I have to dress you as a noble man,” Woohyun said, taking some of his luxurious outfits to try on the lad. Daeyeol was much taller than he was, and aside from the trousers that barely covered the entirety of his tall legs, the clothes transformed him into a wealthy individual.

Hyunmi stood mesmerized, staring at him with the pride of a mother. His appearance reminded her of the day she had discovered him, clothed in loneliness and tears, yet dressed as a spoiled rich boy. For a moment her thoughts drifted to the world of possibilities, wondering whether the luxurious outfit would define his daily life had he not ended up at their home. Wondering whether a family member would come had they recognized the golden robin emblem on his vest. What if she had actually obstructed him from a better future?

“Although I commence you both for this gallant pursuit, how will I know I am to rescue the correct girl? What if I took a maiden who had chosen to earn money in such a place? I would be convicted for abducting her,” Daeyeol raised an excellent concern, discovering a flaw in Woohyun’s overnight plan.

“Perhaps you should forgo your fame,” Hyunmi suggested to Woohyun, a grim line tilting the corner of her lips. She suggested him to take the role up himself, though a part of her knew and expected a resistance.

Woohyun could hardly tell whether she jested using her usual derision, or believed him to be the type to wander into such places. The thought itself offended him. “I may have done wrong and am no saint, but never will I ever set foot at a brothel. The entirety of me shall eventually belong to one woman only.”

“And would you treat your lovely wife as a property under your ownership, Mr. Nam?” She continued asking, again stating her perspective of the rich. The coldness of her tone distanced last night’s conversation into a foreign memory; the gallant beating of her heart nearly fictional.

To Woohyun who was skilled with his sweet words, he only saw an opportunity to attack. With confidence, he charmingly replied, “If I told you the manner with which I shall pamper my future wife, I fear you shall want me all for yourself.”

Prior to her change of opinion regarding the rich man, she would easily deflect him without humor, but now she laughed. “Your words would bear more believability had I been convinced of the goodness of a marriage.”

“It is for that reason I am here. One matter at a time, dear Hyunmi.”

“It’s Miss Hyunmi,” she corrected sternly. She fought her urge to smile, but Daeyeol caught the faintest hint of a smile appearing as quick as it departed.

“Uhm,” Daeyeol quickly interrupted after having to listen to their barter of coquettish words, “I have yet to obtain knowledge of the girl’s appearance.”

“Ah! There is one other person who has sighted that girl other than myself,” Woohyun said, though he was certain the other would refuse a helping hand. “Lee Sungjong.”

And thus he learned of Hyunmi’s persistence, who without a word strode to the front door. Her sense for justice and equality drove her unfledged actions, only coming to regret it later. In a way, it was a quality he came to admire, and the growing smile on his face reflected it all.

***

“I refuse to participate in such petulance behavior. Why should we rescue a person who does not have kind words to spare?”

As expected, Sungjong keenly rejected the idea despite not having heard the entire proposal. His status as a scholar and the subject of theology did not soften his heart to the pariahs. His eyes of condemnation watched their every move, falling upon Daeyeol whom he had never met before.

“And who may you be?” He questioned harshly, squinting his eyes into a glare. He would not extend his hand until confirming the other’s social class.

“My name is Daeyeol, sir,” the tall lad answered nervously.

Sungjong raised his eyebrows, detecting clues of his status through his speech. The dress of a nobleman could not hide the behavior of a servant. “What is your family name, Mr. Daeyeol?”

“I am an orp—”

“Ah! Perhaps the girl was upset regarding the collision!” Woohyun quickly interrupted, knowing Sungjong would shut the door once he learned of Daeyeol’s status as an orphan. “With her line of occupation, it is normal to get upset.”

“Hah! Spare me the sympathy. That shameful harlot chose a morose occupation for herself. Such a disgrace is not deserving of our mercy,” Sungjong continued speaking, harsher and filled with malign. He even tugged a smirk, averting his gaze from them.

“And yet you claim to study theology? Please do enlighten us regarding the course of your studies when you can’t perform the basic act of kindness,” Hyunmi now spoke, losing her patience, gritting her teeth on a forced smile. “Were you not taught to help the needy? Did you suppose the needy came in the form of fancy upperclass women who bedazzle you with their fine speech? Or do you choose the audience God had set before you, selecting whom to help and reject for the benefit of your own gain?”

Sungjong’s mouth fell open, appalled at her blatant accusations. His fingers pressed firmer around the doorknob, feeling the heat of anger rising to his head. He turned to Woohyun who shrugged, as if to say he had also been on the receiving end of her lashing. Oh, he certainly had, multiple times.

“You must remember, it is not they who are healthy that need a physician, but those who are sick. If you truly wish to help, you ought to start with those who require it the most,” Hyunmi continued, eyes hard.

Sungjong squinted at the woman in front, then turned to Woohyun. “I detest her as much as I detest you, Mr. Woohyun. She is as equally impertinent as you are. What a wonderful pair you two make,” he spoke sarcastically.

“Why thank you, it is for that reason I think she is quite beguiling,” Woohyun said. And when he watched Sungjong reluctantly step out of his house and lock the door behind him, Woohyun stared at Hyunmi with ardour. She would’ve made a wonderful partner; in the way he used his charm to appeal to women, she possessed the gift to persuade men into agreement. Yet, something about the thought did not appeal to him, and he would rather keep her talent hidden from Kim Sunggyu.

“Thank you, Mr. Lee. You shall be rewarded for your kindness,” Hyunmi spoke with a friendliness that juxtaposed her earlier lecture, earning a grunt in response.

“I do not wish for you to speak any more. And I insist you call me Mr. Sungjong instead; no one addresses me by my family name.”

Woohyun laughed at his foolish request. “She would never call men by their given na—”

“If it pleases you, Mr. Sungjong,” Hyunmi interjected, nullifying Woohyun’s entire statement. She flashed him a playful smirk, emphasizing the jesting was truly a dedication to him. The look of shock on his face, as she had come to expect, was worth the small mischief.

***

Heading towards their destination, Woohyun briefed the rest of the plan. The entire street contained rows and rows of brothels, adding an impossibility to their rescue mission. Prostitution was a popular occupation, calling out to single and married man alike to indulge themselves in the pleasure of sin. Many women chose to neglect shame and pride in order to earn wealth. Young girls were abducted; their free will and body stripped off of them.

“How many women do you suppose are held captive against their will?” Hyunmi asked, eyeing each building with remorse. Such was the hardship faced by the poor: unethical working condition and inhumane treatments, simply for the merit of earning a living. And if by some sort of miracle they manage to get wed, the hard earned effort becomes currency of the husband.

“Perhaps many, but it is impossible to save them all. The size of your house makes it illogical to contain them, and the street has a higher chance of welcoming them,” Woohyun commented, eyes still searching around. When they rested on Hyunmi, he noticed the fall in her expression. How he hated being the reason for her dejection, but with a mind as determined as hers, she was bound to face hindrances of reality.

“Don’t be mistaken, Hyunmi. You may not be able to help everyone, but at least you will restore hope to an individual’s future. It’s an achievement not many can or are willing to obtain.”

She looked up at him with a sense of awe, her heart filled with the warmth of gratitude. Every beating reflected the spurge of regained courage, a conviction that today’s actions could onset tomorrow’s improvements. Perhaps she was naive, perhaps she was too hopeful, but with the change taking place in one wealthy man, perhaps hope had revealed itself in front of her all along.

“Thank you,” she genuinely spoke. Not expecting him, out of all people, to feed her need for encouragement. She obtained more reason to skew her skeptical perception of the man into a positive mirth.

“Here,” Sungjong interrupted, suddenly stopped in front of the most luxurious building.

“Is this it?” Daeyeol questioned, looking at the seemingly ordinary building. The curtains covering the insides were the sultry color of lush red, inviting men to uncover the treasures hidden beneath it.

“I spotted this symbol etched on her skin,” Sungjong said, pointing at the sign painted above the front entrance. He had thought it was a strange mark or wound, but the disfigured shape on her flesh was an eerie resemblance to the symbol he now saw.

“Perfect, then we shall carry out the plan,” Woohyun cued, motioning his hand to let the others enter. Sungjong grunted in frustration, but reluctantly led the way, followed by Daeyeol who was too stiff in his movements. When Hyunmi was to follow, Woohyun quickly grabbed her by the wrist, gently pulling her to him.

“I need you by my side.”

Hyunmi’s heart pounded quicker, soon adjusting his words to what they meant, and not for what she thought he implied. How embarrassing for coming up with such preposterous possibilities. It was like falling into his trap of sweet lies and false promises, although, perhaps, the small part of her wished she had mistaken his corrupted motive all along.

***

Sungjong and Daeyeol scanned the interior of the brothel. A large painting as a centerpiece caught their attention, capturing the image of a bare maiden in the midst of a shell. A stout man occupied the front counter, tapping his plump fingers against the wooden surface, anticipating the newcomers to make purchase.

“May I help you?” His voice rang with a chilling quality, seeking business above all else.

Daeyeol stared at Sungjong, completely deranged from comprehension. He had never engaged in such dangerous tasks before, and neither did he have money to afford a harlot. From what he had heard, Sungjong’s background as a scholar of theology wouldn’t permit him knowledge of the business’ operation either.

“I seek a young girl,” Sungjong spoke. The composure of his voice and action showcased his believability as a customer. However, the motion with which he tightly grasped the bag around his shoulder may give away signs of an amateur. “I believe there is one by the name of Miss Shin.”

The man squinted his eyes in search of an error. “Are you a frequent visitor? I can’t seem to recognize your face.”

Indeed, Sungjong had not thought things through, reluctantly frowning an expression of panic, stiff jaw and raised eyebrows. His fingers fiddled with the bottom of his bag, tracing nonsensical symbols in search for some solution.

“A friend of us frequently visits this brothel and recommends the girl,” Daeyeol attempted to save the other. He clenched his fingers into a fist, trying to conceal his own set of worries.

The man’s fingers drummed louder, skepticism bridged through his low humming. He flipped through the pages of the book in front of him and looked up at them again. “Who wishes to book Miss Shin?”

“I do,” Sungjong spoke, his tone rather bored and grumpy. He wished to end this ridiculous rescue attempt as soon as possible. It bore no benefit to him.

“What about the other gentleman?” His eyes now went to Daeyeol.

“I… I am quite picky and would like to take my time selecting a… woman. You may take my friend over to Miss Shin’s room first,” he stammered in the most convincing way possible. After all, his role was to elongate time and distract.

“Very well.” The man snapped his finger, and the sound called forth a woman dressed in a minimum off shoulder attire. The despicable scenario resembled an owner calling forth a dog, and the dog willingly wagged its tail. She took her role as a seductress too well, brushing her long fingers against Sungjong’s arm and teasing him to follow.

Sungjong and Daeyeol shared a silent look. Despite being strangers, desperate times called for sudden chivalry and comradeship to blossom. Each had a role to fulfil if they wished to attain success.

Two floors up, nearly ten steps forward before turning right, then another ten steps before turning left. The floor was designed like a maze, but Sungjong memorized the way to the best of his abilities, planning an escape route in advance. He had always been bright in his studies, and the wisdom deemed advantageous for such purposes.

“You have an hour, sir. Enjoy,” the woman spoke, inserting a key to unlock the door.

Sungjong hoped she wouldn’t entrap him behind a locked door, which would thwart his escape plan. He entered the dark room, and as his eyes slowly adjusted to the absence of light, he perceived an imagery much more horrifying than darkness itself.

He wished to have been blinded to the sight; to erase the image of an underaged girl bound to her vulnerability. Her arms sprawled wide above her head, strapped against the bed rail with a pair of sturdy ropes. She laid helpless on the bed, wriggling in a thin robe that barely concealed her nudity. To any other man, the defenseless girl would be a feast to dine on; to Sungjong, the act of enforced prostitution itself sickened him.

“It is you! I should have known you were a perverse man. I pray for death to befall upon your pathetic life,” the girl shouted, spewing vicious words.

Sungjong sustained his greatest urge to counterattack, resisting to walk out of the room and leave her be to the debauchery of other predators. But he couldn’t. The morality in him refused to let this situation be. He pranced towards the bed, examining the rope knotted around her wrist. The tightness took away the healthy color of her wrist, leaving blue marks and awkwardly bent fingers from the lack of blood circulation. He began undoing the rope.

“Get your hands away! I would rather be killed than be touched by a filthy rat!”

“Filthy?” Sungjong managed to scoff in her face. “I ain’t the one using my body in exchange for money.”

“Did you suppose I had a choice?”

“I assume not, which is why we are helping you escape,” he spoke, releasing one arm from the rope. Now he moved to the other side, untying the second knot.

Miss Shin remained quiet, staring at him with a look of disbelief. “Are you trying to deceive me? That would only make you a liar, and liars will be burned in hell. Please continue to utter words of deceit, for it will please me to see you tortured among the blazing flames of hell!”

Sungjong huffed a breath of annoyance, biting his lips from countering her words. Hyunmi’s speech echoed a faint reminder to remain selfless, to welcome any enemy with open arms. Out of every possible variations, of course he had obtained a female demon—a term he had coined for Miss Shin.

He untied the final knot around her wrist, seeing the painful mark stretched across her dry skin. She immediately retracted her arms and retreated to the far end of the bed. For an individual whose language was limited to insults and curses, she now trembled with the greatest sign of fear.

“Contrary to your beliefs, I am not here to find pleasure. I hardly think that is possible,” Sungjong said, mocking her.

“What do you seek of me?”

“Naught,” he answered, retrieving a blouse, a trouser, and a small hat he carried in the bag with him. He threw each item on the bed beside her. “It is me you seek; me and several others who will help you escape.”

The girl looked at him befuddled, requiring several seconds before initiating a movement to grab her new outfit.

“Make haste and change, I haven’t got the entire day,” Sungjong said, turning around to face the wall, crossing his arms. The move was risky and dangerous; she could easily attack him in his defenseless state. But Sungjong never thought of such possibilities when his main priority was to return to his peaceful haven at home.

“Who are these several others you speak of?” The girl asked. For once, she sounded civil and human, displaying the ability to speak without the presence of any profanities.

“You may remember the other man who was with me when you disturbed my peaceful walk, along two other people whom I am not acquainted with.”

“If you are not acquainted with them, why should they help you?”

“I was forced to assist then. I do not care for your miserable condition. The sooner I get you out, the sooner I can return to my comfort,” Sungjong said, too prideful to admit his lie. He wished for her to forgo this horrible torture, to free her body from physical abuse, to offer her a chance at a new beginning.

“Then I may delay your death sentence until you have aided me with my escape,” she spoke, tapping his back as an indicator of her readiness. The outfit clearly belonged to a man, and her hands were swallowed by the long sleeves. Other than that, the outfit managed to conceal most of her identity.

“Does anyone guard the door during a time of… service?” Sungjong hesitated his choice of words.

“They promote a disdainful privacy, allowing those deplorable pigs to molest me in private. But truly, I suspect guilt to outrun their conscience were they to hear me cry. I tend to dramatize my pleas for that reason, hoping it would haunt them to their death,” she said, smirking.

Her expression was not that of a victim; perhaps a victim who had tasted the bitterness of abuse to the point of knowing how to act the role of the abuser.

“We should move. Tie your hair.” Sungjong handed the final piece to her disguise: a rubber band. As she obeyed without much protest, he quietly opened the door, preparing for the great escape

“Clear.” He motioned her to follow along. Using precise concentration, he remembered the pattern of each step toward the front entrance. He did not turn around, hoping she was intelligent enough to follow him in silence. And indeed, as they reached the first floor, he made an abrupt stop. She nearly collided against him for the second time.

“Why did you stop, wretched moron?”

Sungjong placed a finger against his lips, requesting her silence. This Daeyeol person was doing an extremely splendid job at distracting the brothel keeper. The man’s droopy eyes and lethargic response showed his keenness to remove Daeyeol’s presence.

Just then, by the chance of sheer luck, Daeyeol caught sight of Sungjong’s head peeking behind the wall. A small nod relaid the conclusion of their plan.

“Ah, this woman in the painting. Who is she?” Daeyeol switched the topic, pointing to the large painting of a woman in nude. It deemed the perfect decoy to keep the man’s sight away from the front door. The hand hidden behind his back subtly motioned for Sungjong to head to the door.

“It is The Birth of Venus by Botticelli,” the man mumbled, about to turn to the front when Daeyeol screamed again, pointing at the painting as if it caught fire.

“You must look again, fine gentleman, and study the proportion of the goddess. Does such a woman exist in this brothel? I wish to see her!”

“You are basing your standards off a fictional imagery,” he spoke, looking at the sculpted body of the goddess of love with a hardened gaze.

“It is idealized, therefore fictional.”

“I am afraid no human contains such flawless proportions.”

Daeyeol quickly turned his head, ensuring the other two were no longer within the same room. He caught the small swift of a closing door. Success.

“What a shame. Perhaps I shall return another time. I wish to pay for my friend instead,” Daeyeol said, handing out a sum of money Woohyun had provided in advance. Despite having stolen one of the servants, at least they were polite enough to pay for her service. He proceeded taking confident steps, wiping off the speckles of sweat forming on his forehead as he exited. What a difficult task it was, and yet his heart throbbed in excitement.

Outside, he moved to a corner assigned as their meeting point. Daeyeol immediately noticed Hyunmi staring at the younger girl, her expression resembling the way she had looked at him years ago. It was one filled with warmth and sympathy, a trusting gaze he chose to confide in, believing the promises of comfort and a better future she had given. Up until today, he never regretted putting his trust in her words.

“Oh woeful child, how brave you are for enduring the ill treatment of such monsters,” Hyunmi spoke, examining the girl who was dressed in Woohyun’s clothes. She threw her arms around the young girl, who happened to be taller than she was. For a brief moment, her olfactory sense picked up the scent lingering around the outfit—an earthy fougere smell, sharp as it was sweet—Woohyun’s scent. She immediately took distance.

“What is your name?” She asked, her voice more hushed, comfort exchanged between the two.

The girl seemed to hesitate before puckering her lips for an answer. “Jineul.”

“Well, Jineul, my name is Jang Hyunmi. My house is open for those who have no place or home to go to, and if you’d like, you are more than welcome to reside with us. You will have the freedom to do as you please.”

“Do not speak of such flattering lies, Hyunmi. I am aware you live by the conduct of rules and proper manners at home. How can you promise false freedom?” Woohyun interrupted with a cheeky smile.

“Freedom is received by those who wish to explore their passion. Rules has to be implemented to keep the order. It is a much better alternative than living on the streets,” Hyunmi corrected her own speech.

Sungjong raised his eyebrows, compelled to experience the promises she spoke off. This woman was quite the manipulator, persuading others with their heart’s greatest desire. Perhaps, she could aid him to regain Sungyeol’s lost affection towards him.

“Are these men staying at the house?” Jineul moved her head to the three men present, a movement so stiff and tense she may be mistaken of planning an assault. She clenched against Hyunmi’s dress, taking shield.

It became clear to Hyunmi why Woohyun requested her presence to stay with him. He predicted the girl’s possible trauma towards male, knowing she viewed every breathing man as an enemy and would therefore only find comfort in women. Hyunmi would never admit the admiration in front of his face, but his ability to plan had charmed her in ways he didn’t account for.

“The ones residing at the house are nice and trustworthy people,” Hyunmi spoke. “It would set my heart at ease if you make a favorable decision. You will find the comfort of a house, and the warmth of a home.”

The young girl’s eyes widened, never having experienced the luxury of being cared for. Acceptance was at her disposal despite her inability to repay the kindness.

“For the time being,” she spoke quietly, giving a small nod.

“Excellent!” Hyunmi clasped her hands together. “We shall make arrangements for your room. The only room we had available is presently occupied by Mr. Nam.”

“If you insist, I could stay together with you in your room. I certainly would file no complaints against it.” Woohyun was quick to seize his opportunities, winking at Hyunmi who lost her verbal ability to reply, displaying a flush of reddened cheeks instead.

“How disgusting. Such matters should be sorted out amongst yourselves. Considering we have completed the task of rescuing the damsel in distress, my help is no longer required. I shall head home,” Sungjong said, sparing no look at the rest. He turned on his heels, leaving the premise behind the wall. But as soon as he exposed himself on the street, he froze at the sight of a familiar figure.

They hadn’t been alone. A pair of eyes carefully darted between every individual, a grim expression darkened his features. The person remained idle, inwardly weighing the speech he overheard to derive a condemning conclusion. They hadn’t reached the end of their rescue mission yet; not when a man stood by to declare their failure.

One by one, their gaze connected with Lee Sungyeol’s wicked eyes.


	11. Doubt

“Greetings,” Sungyeol purled lowly, eyeing each individual with a predator’s eye. His lips tugged into a smirk of malice, filled with ill intentions unimaginable to a benevolent person’s mind.

“Brother,” Sungjong’s voice wavered, his confidence cascaded by the oppressor's appearance. His shrieking tone alerted the others of an uninvited intruder. It was not a heed warning, it was a plea for help.

“Mr. Lee, pleasant meeting you here.” Woohyun immediately moved forward, his hands furtively signaling for the two women to take shelter.

Normally, the fierce Jineul would’ve fought her way through the usage of odious remarks, but under Hyunmi’s guidance, she was forced to indulge in proper behavior.

“What business do you seek here?” Sungyeol asked, resting his sight on Woohyun. The man’s expression was numbed of guilt and fear, frivolous as ever. Despicable.

“I was taking a stroll with my new acquaintances,” Woohyun continued, throwing an arm around Daeyeol’s shoulder, performing for a singular audience. He had to appear close to his fellow residents. “Some has never set foot in this region of town. Can you believe it?”

“But why should this lousy ratbag trot together in your gaily occasion? He is a nuisance to your path and deserves to be locked at home,” Sungyeol spoke, eyes darting to the one misfortunate enough to be the subject of his insult, his own brother.

Jineul slightly giggled, possessing a distorted sense of delirium through the slander of the male species. One could hardly imagine what sorts of foul treatment she had received to form such apathy towards men.

The noise caught Sungyeol’s attention, wondering why a female dressed herself in a male’s attire. He did not bother himself with their matters.

Hyunmi failed to read his expression, putting her focus on unfair treatments. Her cynicism proved to be too optimistic. Disparity wasn’t a plague among the rich and poor, or the male and female—the problem persisted among brotherhood and family members akin. It was absurd; she could never imagine herself addressing Dongwoo with such disrespect.

“He is your brother of one flesh and blood. How could you speak to him in such degrading manner?” She chided with a disdainful attitude. She marched forward, feeling the faint brush of Woohyun’s fingers in an attempt of pulling her into complacency. Her logic was aware of the consequences following her protest, but her heart had already chosen its allegiance.

Sungyeol’s expression remained firm and hollow. Taking slow steps forward, he entrapped her small frame within his shadow of intimidation. A barter of expostulation took place between their fiery gazes.

“You speak such foul words for one who does not know the subject at hand,” he whispered, never breaking his cutthroat sight from her.

“Perhaps you should enlighten me and broaden my understanding,” she challenged.

“Know your place, vile woman. You are not entitled to challenge me; the fact you are robbing me of my precious time is a horrendous crime,” Sungyeol spoke, the wickedness crossing across his feature. He mashed her chin between the grip of his fingers, tilting her face toward his own. “Although, if you wish to talk, I may consider employing you as my personal servant. I may have several desires in need of fulfillment.”

This time it was not Hyunmi who responded with a reformed counter argument, but Woohyun who swiftly slapped the other’s hand away, releasing Sungyeol’s clench from Hyunmi’s chin.

“Careful now. I do not appreciate you tainting her bonny face. If you are throbbing with thirst, you may quench them at a brothel. It is for that reason you have visited this area, is it not?” Woohyun questioned, a threat hidden behind his feigned surprise, as effervescent as it was minatory. It was a lethal weapon against Sungyeol’s petty remarks.

The tall man narrowed his eyes, unaffected by Woohyun’s words. “You do realize I stand witness to your impolent behavior. Such account shall be reported towards Kim Sunggyu.”

“I am merely defending a woman dear to me. Is it a treason?”

Hyunmi pondered upon his words, her heart pounding at every reiteration echoing in her head. Nay. How could she possibly be dear to him? It must’ve been empty words once more. He was a skilled gal sneaker.

“You heed me of a warning, but I doubt becoming its recipient. You seem to be at a greater risk than I am, which shan’t matter,” Sungyeol spoke. He leaned closer toward the male, lowering his voice to a secret rendezvous. “Should you fail, as we have accounted for, we have prepared an alternative solution.”

Sungyeol inched away, removing his despicable presence from the one he used to call his partner. He stared at the rest, his gaze resting longer on a trembling Daeyeol and a feisty Jineul who positioned herself in a fighting stance. Foolish peasants. He never bade them an adieu, leaving as stealthily as he had appeared.

Now that the threat departed, their attention returned to Sungjong. He had been exceptionally quiet, basked in fear for failing his brother. The longing for Sungyeol's affection seemed a notion impossible to attain. Worst of all, he had no clue which of his transgression triggered such strong apathy.

“Mr. Sungjong—”

“Do not speak to me!” The young man raised his voice at Hyunmi, glaring viciously at her who tried to provide comfort. Her face grew blanch at his rejection, but he had no room to store regret. “You may have worsened everything. I never should’ve allowed your manipulation to misguide me.”

“That is no way to speak to mother. Retract your words right this instant!” Daeyeol grew defensive, his fears forgotten when he began defending those he cared for. He did not realize Jineul’s questioning look at the word ‘mother.’

Sungjong reserved no sympathy for the likes of them, having wasted precious seconds on lower ranked pariahs. The manner with which Woohyun coped with them was impressive and foolish at the same time—it was no accomplishment to take pride in. The rich should mingle with the rich, and the poor lament together with the poor. Woohyun broke the rules of common society, and was therefore, no longer deserving of any respect.

He left following the example of his brother; as heartless as a ferocious stranger, as quiet as a stealthy thief, as mean spirited as a condemning judge.

***

It seemed mayhem had a skill to tangle itself within the threads of chaos; it could plummet people to failure or elevate them to success. The outcome was solely determined by one’s response towards the situation.

None expected to be reconvened with unexpected matters at the orphanage upon their return. They wished to hear shouts of triumph, not cries of pitiful woes and loud Sobs between incomprehensible mumblings. Without delay, they rushed into the house to minister the situation.

It was Dongwoo.

The man was writhing in pain, rolling on the floor, lolling his head back and front in consternation. He mumbled gibberish words, then modified them into painful cries, and volleyed them back to mumbles. His body trembled like a critter animal forced to face a lion.

“They’re coming… They’re coming…”

An episode resurfaced, trapping him in the traumatic memory of that dreadful night. The human brain could be cruel, sending constant reminders of events one wished to forget. Dongwoo heard the stormy march in his head, the stomping boots against wooden planks, the flicker of fire lighting the dark, the faces of demons invading their hideout, the retrieval of blades. He remembered it all—the light that burdened him and rescued him.

“Brother!” Hyunmi yelled, falling on the floor beside him, not caring for the hook that ripped the side of her skirt, improperly displaying a woman’s skin. Her focus was on a greater matter. “What happened?”

“He searched the entire house for you. Realizing you were nowhere to be found, I suppose he assumed you had been taken. He started screaming then,” Jangjun said, being the one who kept constant watch of Dongwoo.

“He fell to the ground and behaved like this. Only you can help him, mother,” Donghyun spoke. His usual chipper face showed an agonized expression of worries he should not be experiencing at a young age.

Whispers of condemnation placed blame upon herself. Hyunmi had only departed for several hours, not expecting her absence to welcome a life threatening danger. By trying to help another, she destroyed the one who needed her protection the most.

“Brother,” she spoke, hushing her voice to a soft lullaby, exerting great willpower to conceal her worries and suppress her tears. She held his palm steady in her grip. “I am here. They are gone.”

The speech was familiar as Woohyun had come to observe. He had been there at the marketplace during their first encounter, watching from a faroff distance as Hyunmi calmed her brother in a similar manner. Today he watched from upclose, all plans and acts forgotten, genuinely wishing for the elder to return to his usual frolic demeanor.

“There is the light, see?” Hyunmi spoke, snatching a breath to hide her trembling resonance. She allowed Dongwoo to squeeze her hand to the point her skin turned white from pressure. She withheld the pain and continued the endurance with a sister’s concern. “All is well, dear brother.”

Dongwoo’s cries began to dim, his frantic movements coming to freeze midair. The grip around her hand loosened, and he sat upright using Jangjun’s assistance.

“Hyunmi,” he lulled, finding her among the many faces. His fingers reached out to her face, tracing every single feature like a blind man. He knew the contours of her serene complexion, and the harsh lines of her worries. It was the latter. He had worried her. His lips elicited a small gasp of realization. “Hyunmi!”

“Forgive me brother, I never should have left,” Hyunmi spoke, hugging her brother. Her lips quivered against the valor she tried to fool Dongwoo with.

Woohyun was treated to an intimate sight he would not have witnessed as a stranger. Yet, there was something amiss; like watching a euphoric scenery painted across a black canvas. Worries burried itself beneath the relief.

“Excuse me, Mr. Nam, but a letter addressed to you arrived in the mail this morning. You had already left by the time I wanted to hand it to you,” Rika delivered a cream colored envelope, scented with a strong flowery fragrance. He immediately knew whom it was from. Of course, Mrs. Kim Seulyi’s invitation followed him even here.

“Also, there is a newcomer among us,” Rika continued, the first to take note of Jineul’s presence. The poor girl watched the scene evolve with confusion.

Youngtaek rashly moved to her, his eyes menacing. “Are you a friend or foe?”

“How rude,” Sungyoon commented about the rash behavior.

“He has always been rude,” Jangjun teased with a grin.

“Of course,” Joochan agreed, picking up his guitar to play a sonnet. “It is in the same manner you have always been in love with—”

“Hush! Be quiet!” Jangjun told his friend, sealing his speech using his hand. Luckily, Rika’s curiosity was fully occupied by the new girl.

Jineul stared weirdly, wondering whether she could get along with these fools. She turned to Youngtaek who awaited a response. “To you, I am a foe. To her,” she pointed at Rika, “I am a friend.”

“How dare you? What fault have I trespassed against you?” Youngtaek shouted, unable to accept this instant rejection. Jangjun and Sungyoon immediately held him by the arm, preventing another commotion from happening.

“Plenty. Men are the same everywhere. You are sinners whose place is already reserved in hell. I see the lust in your eyes,” Jineul accused, shocking nearly every male in the house.

“You must be out of your mind! I don’t look at you in such detestable manner. My eyes and heart belongs to another woman,” Youngtaek trailed off, suddenly blushing at the realization of his outright confession. His eyes furtively glanced at Hyunmi, hoping she hadn’t heard him, yet disappointed when proven right. She stared at the floor, her eyes hollow, her mind drifting elsewhere.

Woohyun made the same observation, though it stretched deeper. He nudged Daeyeol, thinking it would only be right for the veteran orphan to introduce the newcomer.

“This is Shin Jineul. From today onwards, she will stay with us,” Daeyeol spoke grandly, inviting gasps of excitement from others.

Jineul darted him a dangerous look, despising the way her full name breathed out of his filthy lips. It tainted the purity of her name.

“A new friend!” Rika cheered in excitement, using a tone that invited strangers to befriend her. She approached Jineul, only because the girl permitted her, and grabbed her hands in hers. “Where have you come from? What is your story?”

“I do not wish to tell,” Jineul spoke softly, eyes scanning the boys surrounding her. There were plenty of them at this place, and she crouched closer against Rika for comfort. The only trustworthy ones were her and the shorter woman they called mother, she assumed.

“Perhaps we should all introduce ourselves,” Daeyeol suggested.

“How rude of me to inquire your story without a proper introduction. My name is Rika,” she spoke cheerfully. “This loud mouthed boy is Jangjun. The tall one is Daeyeol. The one strumming the guitar is Joochan. The annoying one is Youngtaek. The adorable child is Donghyun. Then we have Sungyoon, who is simply Sungyoon.”

Jineul narrowed her eyes, realizing Rika only introduced the ones circling around her. Three others were excluded, including Hyunmi. “What is your family name, Rika?” She asked, the boys non existent in her vision.

“It is a question I wished to gain an answer to someday. My mother abandoned me since I was a child. The only part of my identity I was left with is the name you may call me by.”

Strange, Woohyun thought. According to Hyunmi’s tale, Rika’s mother faced the greatest dilemma as a mother when she selflessly chose to abandon her baby in order to let the child grow on a flowery path; herself doomed for a tormenting fate. Why did Hyunmi withhold pieces of their past?

He whisked his attention to the girl who stood still, eyes watching the others, but her gaze seeing nothing. It was highly unusual to catch her in the act of doing naught, albeit, not a state of rest. She did not even care for the rip in her skirt, almost showing a scandalous amount of skin. The orphans may be young, but they were still men by nature. The thought heated him and beckoned his approach.

“Hyunmi, I request your audience,” he spoke. He knew for certain she was distracted, for he had to repeat several times before she looked up and met his gaze in a blank stare. He did not understand. Dongwoo returned to his chipper persona without a trace of the grim attack—especially after Woohyun assured he would cook for him again—and Rika acquainted herself with Jineul who agreed to share their room together. Was he, perhaps, the one at fault?

Under pressure of this possible judgement, he grabbed her hand and led her upstairs. It happened so fast unbeknownst to others. She put no protest, diligently following his steps as he led her into her own room, closing the door behind him. The noise made her jolt into consciousness, taking in their isolated situation. “What are you—”

“Where do you store your sewing kit?”

The question caught her offguard, losing track of her own speech. Her fingers lifted in a topor manner, pointing at the cabinet to her side. She watched Woohyun busy himself to retrieve the item he sought for, sat her down on the bed, then knelt down in front of her.

“Excuse my rash behavior, but I need your permission before proceeding,” he said, eyes trailing to the rip. At her consent, which consisted of an impassive nod, he mannerfully lifted the bottom of her dress to examine the fabric.

“What are you doing?” She shrieked at once.

“You have granted me your permission to fix your dress! The other option was to have you undress, which I am certain you would refuse at once. Now sit still, or this needle may prick your skin. I promise to abstain from any indecency,” he spoke. After successfully hushing her, he proceeded; her body tensed up at the contact of his knuckles brushing over her skin. He chose to ignore it. He had to. His mission was to aid her, not to woo her. Not now.

Hyunmi blushed profusely, never having allowed a man to invade her privacy to such extent. With every seconds ticking away, her heart continued to beat at their close proximity. Perhaps he could hear it pound along to the rhythm of his breath, which in itself made an effort to remain calm and controlled. She had to distract herself.

“H-how did you learn to do this?” She asked, forgetting to marvel at his hidden skill. His domestic abilities and knowledge went beyond the norm of the typical rich man, or any man in general.

“You may recall the servants were my only companion, and sometimes we would spend the day by imparting their knowledge. They only knew of household duties, and so I was taught to surpass my mentors. I have kept this fact well hidden, until now. I suppose you own yet another secret of mine,” he spoke, finishing the final loops on her dress. The revealing part was concealed through stitches sewn with intrinsic details.

“Amazing,” Hyunmi exclaimed, getting up on her feet, twirling her dress to see the skirt flair like the ripples in a river. She looked at Woohyun, her lips falling open to a hearty smile. “You impress me from time to time again. There isn‘t a thing you cannot do!”

“I beg to differ. The one thing I can’t do is to decipher your feelings, nor identify the matter occupying your mind. Would you be kind enough to humor my piqued interest?”

He spoke this with intended amusement, but her frown resurface instead of granting him a smile. He became uneasy.

“Some things are better left unsaid. You musn’t forget the difference between us. You are an aristocrat, and I am a pariah. You can’t liken us to be closely acquainted, Mr. Nam.”

“Now you are being your own hypocrite, Hyunmi,” he spoke, feeling some agitation rise in him. His intention to comfort her seemed to fuel a rage instead. “You speak of equality and mock the ways of the rich. Here I am trying to enclose the gap between us, yet you further your distance to maintain this disparity. When you told me of your values, I was under the impression you wanted to make a change. Then why do you push me away?”

Because the closer she held onto him, the more reluctant she’d be to let go. Her heart ached knowing she had harbored such attachment towards him. He was different, and it was for that quality she admired him. However, her greatest fear was allowing her admiration to blossom into a feeling reveled by her emotion.

“It does not matter, I don’t blame you. You seem to have plenty of worries occupying your mind, and I wish to lighten your burden. I respect your discreteness if you cannot trust me.”

Wrong again. She kept her secrecy in fear she’d expose her vulnerability to a man who wasn’t supposed to get a glimpse of her real self. She possessed some of his secret, but selfishly refused to offer one up of her own.

“Allow me to comfort you; to uproot your worries and turn them to dust,” he suddenly offered.

She mustered a weak scoff. “How?”

An impish smile took over his face, and before she knew it, he reached out to pull her closer. It wasn’t the kind of pull that protected her from a falling cabinet door, nor a playful act of smearing each other with fresh cow milk, neither a gentle request for her presence by his side. Nay. He pulled her close against the warmth of his chest, never having displayed such intimacy with anyone else before. He circled his arms around her pert body without the intention of letting go. And in the midst of irrational thinking, he let his fingers glide between her hair, his thumb gently moving to soothe her.

Hyunmi did not expect this. She felt her own heartbeat kicking inside her, violently. Perhaps, it was his heartbeat she heard against her resting ear, and not her own. Such was the closeness of his hold. He smelled of earth, of fresh morning dew, of soft masculinity, all of which she had come to accept as the scent of comfort. She had grown dangerously comfortable with him, as proven by her complacency to remain in his arms.

The feelings triggered guilt; her brother experienced a relapse, whereas she pursued whatever affection Woohyun kindled her with. She was not entitled to any of this, not after the chaos her actions had brewed. But then he spoke, and her thought blurred.

“You endure the hardships of taking on a motherly role, and burden yourself with the perfectionism of a fastidious person. However, pushing yourself beyond your limit only increases the weight of affliction,” he spoke, his fingers never ceasing to stroke her hair, an intimate move reenacting their late night rendezvous.

“Despite your distress, you must know your existence has brought joy into people’s life, including my own. For that reason, dear Hyunmi, I commend you my respect.”

He spoke from the heart, a situation he had not planned for. When did he began caring for her at such personal levels? He should not have been concerned reading her growing frowns, nor should his heart ache at her sudden stillness. His aim was to gain their signature, to purchase the house, and yet, he always found himself drawn to the sibling who had nihil control over the house’s ownership. He couldn’t possibly admit it, but Sungyeol had been correct. He was falling and failing all at the same time.

“Tell me your concern. I shall lend my ear to listen and my chest for you to cry on. I may not have the solution, but sharing a burden can, in itself, provide comfort,” he spoke, hushing his voice into a calming cadence. Every syllable signified the comfort of a fiery hearth during a winter storm.

His words did not sway her into an immediate confession, but it did break her into submission. Never had he imagined the brazen woman who volleyed strong opinions with him to shatter into the young girl hidden underneath. How many burden amassed in her heart? How long had she endured them in her sole company?

“Do you suppose the intention to help another invites mayhem into my company?” She suddenly questioned, catching him offguard in the midst of his wonderment. “I always thought it would lead to an improved situation, but perhaps it was foolish on my part to bear such naive thoughts.”

“Are these thoughts triggered by Sungjong’s earlier remarks?” He was quick to find the correlation. A small jolt in her body indicated he had guessed correctly.

“I wished to do Mr. Sungjong a favor by defending him, but he rebuked me for it. Saving Jineul also came at the expense of my brother’s suffering. Who is to judge whether I have committed an act of injustice, or conformed myself to becoming a law abiding civilian?”

Woohyun could not help stifle a small laughter at her reply.

“Why do you laugh at me? I was not jesting with you,” she whined in a puerile manner, one he found to be rather adorable. Her fist pounded against his chest, but the thought of her tears hurt him more.

“Because you prove to be quite the hypocrite once again” he said.

She pulled away from him, but he tightened his grip and kept her even closer. “You promised to comfort me,” she accused.

“And keeping my promise, I shall. You see, Hyunmi, if you wished to be a law abiding citizen, I am afraid you have already trespassed that title multiple times. You establish rules for this household, but you also speak down to me despite the social title you hold. You bear enough courage to talk back to Mr. Sungyeol, defending your own beliefs. Why, you even criticize the way the government is run, and tear The Angel of the House poetry apart. Do you suppose such behavior is exemplaratory of a law abiding citizen?”

She pursed her lips together. “No.”

“You have never cared for what society thought of you, wishing to change it instead. Why should you care for their opinions now? You already trespassed society's law by talking to me in the manner of a lover—”

“I do not talk to you in the manner of a lover.”

“Yet you find comfort between my arms, and reveal your innermost thoughts. Say, have you ever discussed this matter with anyone other than me? Or am I entitled to think I bear a special place in your heart for being granted such privilege?”

He grinned as he said this, charming her into a silent remorse for it was true. With candor came great guilt. She was not deserving of this pardon.

“You speak to me intimately beyond the boundaries of regular friendship. Though society forbids it, I doubt you shall change your ways. Likewise, I believe you shall remain rooted in your values,” he observed. “Should one person’s rejection decide for the rest of the society awaiting your assistance? Should one’s word become law over your opinion?”

An understanding sparked in her, he could tell from her body language, spurring up once again, but not out of fear. She searched his gaze for a confidant, hesitant about accepting his mercy. “But what about my brother? Leaving him resurfaced his trauma.”

“Well, do you regret saving Shin Jineul from abuse and debauchery?” He waited, seeing her shake her head. “Indeed. Therefore, I beg of you, do not second guess your act of benevolence. You are as obstinate as a mountain, but your heart nurtures the seed of kindness. Not many are entitled this gift.”

His way with words—if not used for a treacherous purpose—acted as means of sweet comfort. He was right. Sacrifices were required to initiate a change; it wouldn’t be considered a sacrifice had it been easy. She didn’t regret asking Sungjong for help either, for without him, they couldn’t have saved Jineul. Perhaps, the greatest judge against herself was her own self.

“Ah, there is the angel’s smile I was hoping would make its return. How generous you are to grant me a view of it. Say, have I not taken a part at restoring your smile? A noble person would award me with some sort of reward.”

“Such as?”

“A kiss.”

Clearly, he had been jesting with her, uttering flirtatious words as part of his habit. But when he noted the delay in her answer along with her head tilted low, he realized she may just grant a man’s crazy wish in the midst of her hazy mind. This, he had not prepared for.

“I am merely jesting with you. I am not that petty to claim a kiss as my reward; it should be shared between two people who hold dear affections for one another. Instead, I have an entirely different proposal that is much easier to grant,” he quickly said. For if he had spoken a second too late, he was afraid she might catch a glimpse of his blunder, of his anxious heart and stuttering speech. He retrieved the envelope Rika had given him and handed it to her.

“Do peruse it attentively. I shall extend you a question regarding its contents hereafter,” he mused with anticipation.

Hyunmi eyed him skeptically before moving her gaze to the letter. It was similar to the one she received before: an invitation to Mrs. Kim Seulyi’s party. She remembered Rika telling her of Mrs. Kim’s grand parties held every one or two months.

“Now that you have read, prepare yourself for my inquiry,” Woohyun said, lowering the letter to better see her face. He smiled. “I’d like you to attend the party with me.”

“That is no question, it is a statement,” she corrected.

“Ah, therefore, you have no option but to accept.”

“I stand corrected. Do you wish I would ridicule myself by attending the party?”

“Nay. I intend on flourishing your beauty in front of others. The worth of your beauty is unknown to all but me, and I wish for others to see it too. They would bask in envy and jealousy knowing you can never be obtained.”

“And why is that, Mr. Nam?”

“Because I am first in line to obtain your affection,” he spoke openly, drawing a blush on her face. A part of him no longer knew whether he spoke these frivolous words as part of habit, or because they had shaped into his truth. He allowed the giddy feelings to linger.

“I am not merely asking you to come as my guest,” he sang, treating her to a full smile impossible to resist. “I request your attendance as my companion.”


	12. Dance

Gratitude could be repaid through the agreement of a benevolent act. The party did not interest Hyunmi, knowing ridicule would follow her trail to the front door, and mocking cackles would resonate in her dreams. However, she believed in the notion of an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Woohyun did aid her, providing words of encouragement beyond the expectation she had imposed on him. Seeing how eagerly he desired her presence by his side, it was only fitting to answer favorably.

What followed afterwards was Woohyun upholding his promise. He truly wished to cultivate her beauty in a way only he had seen. As a wealthy man, he didn't fear investing in luxurious and stunning items. The outcome, at the end, pertained more worth than any tangible goods could accumulate to.

She had meant to fulfil a benign service, to compensate him for his kindness. However, as she descended the stairs and entered the living room in a dress gifted by Woohyun, everyone was filled with mesmerized wonder. It was a velvety red dress matching the fire of Woohyun’s blazer. Golden embroideries ran at its sides, creating detailed floral patterns to enhance its luxury. The dress elevated her social status to that of a woman born into wealth.

Hyunmi kindled great admiration for the dress, but her genuine awe resurfaced when she watched Woohyun’s reaction. Though she was aware of his ability to spew honeyed words, she also knew he could not feign the same facade through his expression. There was a glint of genuinity when his pupils dilated during her entrance, a sweet satisfaction as his lips fell into a granted curl, and his beam of pride that for once did not focus on himself, but rather, on whom he was with.

“Oh, Hyunmi.” Youngtaek showed an entirely unexpected behavior when he began to cry woefully, locking her arm into his. “Must you go? I am afraid you will have plenty of suitors asking for your hands in marriage.”

“More rivals for you,” Joochan chimed.

“Nay, he never stood a chance to begin with,” Jangjun teased, and the children all laughed at the young boy’s suffering.

“If it assures you, I will ensure it shan’t happen. I have no intention of staying away from her tonight. Anyone attempting to converse with her shall have to include me in their company,” Woohyun spoke, making a few of the orphans giggle again, knowing it worsened Youngtaek’s worries instead.

“It is a tragedy! You are my greatest rival,” Youngtaek exclaimed, gritting his teeth. “Can’t I come along?”

“You don’t own a suit,” Rika said.

“You can’t even dance,” Donghyun snickered.

“And you’re stupid,” Jineul blatantly spoke, inducing laughter in the house. It had been a week, and she perfectly blended with the orphans. Her apathy towards the male was constantly emphasized at every opportunity, but she learned to manage, and they learned to cope.

“Don’t be so harsh on him,” Hyunmi said, gently ruffling Youngtaek’s hair, mirroring the caring image of a mother or an older sibling. “A change in my outer appearance won’t alter my inner character. This party gathers the rich and arrogant in one place; you are aware of my loathing towards them.”

“Well said. Now, this particular rich and arrogant man would like to request your company now. We can’t be late,” Woohyun said, taking no offense in her words. In fact, he had grown accustomed to them and found it stranger had such derision not departed her lips. He held his arm out for her. “After you, my lady.”

Hyunmi stared at his extended offer, wondering once more whether she had made the right decision. She turned to her brother, seeing him gleam in agreement. A pang of guilt shadowed her heart, albeit this time, Dongwoo was made aware of her decision to leave at her own consent—at both their consent.

“Careful,” Dongwoo called as they set foot outside. He beamed with a mixture of pride and awe, showing none of the drooly signs she dreaded to see. He never inquired to be brought to the party, finding comfort in his own home among his own people. The party would exhibit him as a fool’s attraction.

“Return with lots of savory snacks,” Jangjun shouted.

“I second that,” Sungyoon always agreed. “Enjoy yourselves.”

Daeyeol stayed quiet, thinking of the two men he encountered during Jineul’s rescue mission. Sungjong and Sungyeol were brothers, as he had come to learn afterwards. He hoped those two would abstain from their beloved mother, wishing no harm would come her way. He folded his hands and uttered a prayer to the heavens, one to abstain Hyunmi and Woohyun from mayhem. Only that way could he watched them head towards the coach with ease.

“Must you really do that now? Envy has begun to infiltrate my heart,” Woohyun spoke, holding the door open for her.

“What?”

“The way you touched his hair.”

Hyunmi couldn’t help but chuckle, seeing a pout form on his lush lips. He looked less the arrogant man and more an adorable child. “It is a mere gesture abstained from any romantic feelings.”

“To him it is an entirely different matter,” Woohyun insisted.

“It means naught. I have repeated this action from time to time again as a kind gesture, and nothing more,” she defended.

Her words were empty unless proven directly to him. In the moment of spontaneity, she reached her hand to his hair, gliding her fingers between his soft ebony strands, striding it over his cheeks in a light caress. A mimic of her playful action resulted in an entirely different reaction she had not accounted for. Her heart staggered deliriously, and breathing became dizzying. She wondered whether the tight corset was at fault.

“I have proven my point.” Woohyun gently grabbed her hand from his cheeks. He drew a grin, taunting and teasing at the same time. There was a great urge to continue holding her hand, to lace his fingers between hers, to rub his thumb over her skin, and to make her his very own. Realizing he had held her for a second longer than intended, he removed her hand from the clasp of his fingers. Now he was left with no other excuses to initiate deliberate contact.

Woe was he.

***

Seulyi’s party was famous for its grandiose scale, the details of the decoration including the imported flora, and the festive atmosphere set by the musicians. All of these showcased her abilities as a great hostess. The musicians played a wonderful tune, but even without a biased opinion, Hyunmi found more comfort in Joochan’s emotional melodies. Servers roamed around with food trays in their hand, dressed in a rag closely resembling her previous outfit.

Hyunmi’s second visitation begged to differ, intending to leave a better impression. She presented herself as a noble woman, locked in the arm of the wealthiest man in town, entering a world she despised to feign her elation. How ironic of a situation she had found herself in. People stared with condemning looks, regarding her as a hypocrite upon arrival. Though of course, this was the judgement she perceived in her own head.

“Well, good evening, Woohyun,” a familiar female voice greeted. A beautiful upper class lady dressed in the finest gold and most expensive apparel appeared, her arms woven around a man whose good looks would evoke a Greek God’s envy.

“Mr. Myungsoo, Seulyi,” Woohyun spoke, his lips curling to a grin. “Such a pleasant surprise meeting you here!”

This made the married couple laugh. “You utter nonsense. This is our house. Why shan’t we be here?” Myungsoo asked with amusement.

“The subject of my interest lies in the female companion beside you.” Seulyi’s gaze darted to Hyunmi who still had her arms locked around her companion. Without recognition to Hyunmi’s social class, Seulyi regarded her as one of her own, presenting a treatment much friendlier and respectable in nature. Outer appearances would never cease to evoke judgements. How Hyunmi wished to take herself asunder from such despairing notions.

“When you inquired my assistance to have a dress sewn from scratch, I did not expect you to gift it to a particular person—a female one, at that,” Seulyi continued with a teasing grin, then turned to Hyunmi and winked her long eyelashes. “Do not be mistaken. My surprise stems off the fact he has found himself a companion.”

“What are you implying?” Hyunmi questioned, awaiting Seulyi’s answer, studying Woohyun’s tight lips, overlooking Myungsoo’s expressionless face.

“Woohyun religiously attends my parties ever since I set foot into the Kim household. Not once, dear woman, have I seen him bring a female to the party,” Seulyi continued, the grin settling deeper on her face to imply a greater meaning. “He is a known gal sneaker, and women surround themselves around him like butterflies attracted to nectars. I am elated to see a change for once.”

The news was expected and lacked the factor to surprise her. Hyunmi could imagine the number of women who fell for his sultry invitations: for his ability to bedazzle them through speech alone, and his visuals worthy of worship. God seemed almost unfair for creating a being of utmost perfection, but Hyunmi knew more than anyone, his true beauty lied in his flaws.

“He is a frivolous man who charms everyone around him,” Hyunmi finally responded, disguising her censure as a compliment. The addition of her smile made her statement all the more believable.

“And yet, one woman finally managed to charm him,” Seulyi continued, sparing a playful look at Woohyun.

The possibility of being dear and special to him made Hyunmi’s heart react with a violent tug. Nay, it couldn’t be true. These two were close friends, as she observed through the absence of honorifics. They could be scheming behind her back and she’d be the fool for allowing such deception to succeed. Her dubious logic suppressed her fluttering emotion.

“I am most honored of such beliefs. However, I must correct you there. I have not charmed him, rather, I have something in my possession he wished to obtain,” she said, referring to the land upon which their house stood.

“Truly?” Seulyi looked surprised.

“It is true,” Woohyun confirmed. “Her heart is a delicate subject not mine for the taking, yet.”

How clever of him to spin a lighthearted statement in order to withdraw the topic from his ulterior motive. His manners translated beguilingly which enchanted even Hyunmi to emit a small chuckle she never intended to produce.

“I take it you are Jang Hyunmi, then. One of the owners of the land desired by Mr. Kim Sunggyu,” Myungsoo began to speak, shattering the cold shell of Italy’s finest statue people would mistake him as. “My name is Kim Myungsoo, Seulyi’s husband, and owner of this estate.”

If Hyunmi was surprised, it did not show on her composed demeanor. With anyone else, she would’ve questioned how such detailed information about her private life was made known. However, Myungsoo’s career as a judge allowed him knowledge of public and private secrets. Yet, the neutral judge began to pick sides when he leaked her information to the opposing party.

“Being the high judge yourself, I assume you have a perfect understanding of Mr. Nam’s intention?” She feigned her friendliness, making a small curtsy to formally greet him. The rich were all the same, except one.

“I shall be honest with you. I supposed I did.” Myungsoo gave Woohyun a suspicious eye. “However, I can no longer claim so with certainty.”

The small sentence managed to stir her heart with big tides of hesitation. She must prevent her feelings from getting drowned by this ocean of reveling emotions, knowing the storm shall eventually come to pass. She wished for Woohyun to deny the statement, to set her heart at ease, to return the rational logic to her mind, but of course he wouldn’t. The man was beguiling in his ways and longed for nothing more than to witness her fall for his tricks. And indeed, she was falling.

Yet, when she glanced at him, the confidence broke asunder from his handsome face. Instead, she was treated to a sight of bashfulness, almost shy.

Her heart jolted.

“We wish to hear more stories regarding his stay at your house, but we musn’t take up the time. I reckon you would want to dance,” Seulyi said, showing a friendliness much akin to Rika’s hospitality toward strangers. How much of her kindness would remain had she appeared in a shameful dress?

“Dance? No—”

Before Hyunmi finished her sentence, Woohyun took her hand in his, gliding it to his lips to plant a chaste kiss. He brought his eyes to her, sneering at the blush forming on her cheeks.

“The only reason for your decline is, of course, if you pertain no knowledge whatsoever regarding dancing,” he whispered, his breath hot against her hand.

Oh how she despised the knowledge he had obtained of her. Through their small conversations, their constant bantering, their exchange of coquettish words, and the revealing of their secrets, he perfectly knew how to kindle her fighting spirit.

“Miss Hyunmi, may I have the pleasure of dancing with you?” He formally posed the question, holding his hand out to extend a formal invitation. The nonchalance showed no indication of the way he had kissed her hand or spoken manipulative words to align her will to his own.

She accepted, her face contorted with annoyance for allowing such easy victory. Only when she stood on the dance floor, surrounded by numerous upperclass men and women who devoured dance lessons as part of their daily routine, did she realize she had placed her brazen attitude to welcome forthcoming embarrassment upon herself.

“You do not know how to dance, do you?” Woohyun confirmed again, holding her into a proper stance. He pulled her closer, yet a reasonable distance remained. His arms were upright, his shoulder relaxed, his chin protruded upwards, a perfect examplerary model of a proficient dancer.

“Would it embarrass you?” She challenged him, pondering to deliberate her blunders and mistakes.

“Nay. My purpose in requesting a dance isn’t to put forth a wondrous performance,” he confessed, smiling that charming grin as he leaned forward to whisper, “I needed the merit of holding you close to me.”

Hyunmi’s eyes widened the moment the music started. Her heart as well as her body being swept away by the man in front of her, tuning the beating of her heart to the rhythm of the music. A dancer’s true ability did not lie in his own performance, but rather, in his skill to guide his partner. Hyunmi knew Woohyun was terrific, for she had not made one mistake despite this being her first time. He claimed to have no interest in the performance, but a part of her knew he desired for the both of them to appeal to the audience.

“Jealous eyes have been following me since I set foot in this mansion today. Do you wish to know why?” He suddenly asked.

“Because you are the richest and most handsome man in town?” she answered, echoing a similar description he once made of himself.

He laughed heartily and let the sound linger on a warm smile. “How pleasing it is to hear those words from your lips. But you are wrong, Hyunmi. Their jealousy aren’t directed at my splendidness, but rather, at my ability to have the most beautiful lady by my side.”

“Do not jest.”

“It is true. If you had stopped looking at me with reverent awe in your eyes and regarded your surrounding, you would come to realize you have mesmerized them,” he spoke this with another grin.

Hyunmi refused to admit her gaze had, indeed, wandered to his direction at every possible interval. Though she greeted Seulyi and Myungsoo, her eyes returned to Woohyun almost immediately, watching the glimmer of excitement as he spoke, studying the bashfulness she had not expected, seeking the sound of his laughter that shaped his eyes into crescent moon. She had become too dependent of him.

He twirled her by the hand, releasing it so she would fall against him, her fingers flat against his chest. His arms snaked behind her waist, holding her still as the twirl of her dress came to freeze. Their distance was immeasurable, only a hand width apart. They regarded each other’s presence when the cadence of the music faded out, replaced by the hard drumming of her heart instead.

She expected him to utter flirtatious words, one that would turn their mood to a teasing one. But as they stood in silence—his gaze locked on hers, his breath warm against her skin, his sharp fougere scent drowning her senses—she realized the situation was different. He seemed to consider the idea of leaning forward, of pressing his lips against hers, and she was frightened to have conjured such thoughts, even more so of knowing she would’ve let it happened—of wishing he would’ve let it happen.

“Well,” he spoke, regaining his voice, hoarse and low. “It was most pleasing and honorable to dance with you, Miss Jang.”

He took her hand and once again brought it to his lips, planting a kiss transcending the one prior. She studied the softness of his lips, the warmth it left her with, and the fantasies of his lips pressed elsewhere.

Nam Woohyun was far more dangerous than she had given him credit for.

“Well, this is quite a spectacle,” a grim voice entered, filled with nothing but malign. Of course, they were not surprised to see it belong to Kim Sunggyu.

“Mr. Sunggyu.” Woohyun paid a nod of acknowledgement. He still regarded Hyunmi’s hand within his own, unconsciously giving her a squeeze. And if she panicked, it did not show on her rigid composure.

“Miss Jang, allow me the pleasure of the next dance,” Sunggyu spoke, holding his palm open. The feigned friendliness of his voice stressed his command, leaving no room for rejection. He was determined to acquire his greatest desires using any methods at his disposal.

Hyunmi felt the hesitation and reluctance from Woohyun’s grip, and she unconsciously patted his hand to ensure her willingness by letting go.

“It would be an honor, Mr. Sunggyu,” she responded with equal pretense. The smile fixated on her face, but her heart desired to hurt him.

She placed herself in his arms, feeling the deliberate pinch on her fingers to inflict more pain. What a difference. Dancing with Woohyun felt like the sunrise about to bring new hope and possibilities, whereas Sunggyu was the sunset ridding itself of all hope into an abyss of the endless night.

“You seem to enjoy Mr. Nam’s company,” Sunggyu remarked, moving when the music started. He moved fast, with great precision, true to someone who had been taught to dance only to glorify his own performance.

“He is your friend. Surely we find agreement in the statement,” she tested, wanting to see how much he actually cared for Woohyun.

Sunggyu’s lips smothered into a smirk. “He is no friend of mine. He is a pawn.”

This revelation made her jolt, surprised at the ease with which he revealed his verisimilitude.

“And if you feel the slightest bit of attraction toward him, I commend him for doing a splendid job.”

Hyunmi pressed her lips together, unwilling to bask in the idea. She had known all along Woohyun’s intention had never been pure, but somewhere along their secret confessions and affectionate gazes, she had forgotten about it. Mayhap, the intention to hurt became the intention to heal over the fleeting course of time.

“You are mistaken for believing I harbor such affections,” she gallantly casted, missing the beat of the music, losing track of her movements, stepping on his foot instead. Who knew a lie could cause her imbalance?

Sunggyu winced, both at her words and action. The success of Woohyun’s task was indefinite, but Sunggyu knew there was a higher probability of failure. He heard Seulyi’s previous remark ringing in his ear like a scratching fork against a ceramic plate.

_“And yet, one woman finally managed to charm him.”_

Yet another fallen and good for nothing pawn.

“If you aren’t attracted to him, perhaps you despise him,” Sunggyu continued asking.

“I despise the attitude of the rich,” she relented, carefully selecting her words. Woohyun’s attitude was humble, kind to the poor, friend of the pariah, and akin to an equal. He was everything she expected him not to be. The mere thoughts of him alone caused her to jumble her steps, crushing Sunggyu’s foot again. He grunted out loud, publicizing her error.

“If you were aware of his true intentions, you would find him despicable,” Sunggyu spoke, his tone cold.

“A man commanding others to do the dirty work in his stead is far more despicable.”

Sunggyu did not expect her to showcase such resilience, retaliating his words with ease. He meant to jeopardize her faith in Woohyun; so that his friend would turn his focus toward Dongwoo. Perhaps, Woohyun performed too splendid of a job, but aimed for the wrong sibling.

The music stopped, and Sunggyu immediately released her filthy hands to watch her stumble backwards, nearly exhibiting a fool of herself if Woohyun hadn’t appeared in time to catch her fall.

Sunggyu glowered at the sight. “You are a terrible dancer.”

“Indeed,” she acknowledged. “It is the person I dance with who decides what kind of dancer I become. Mr. Nam chose to cover my flaws whereas you wished to expose them. Do you wish for me to apologize for stepping on your feet? Considering you wished to emphasize my inability to dance, I thought it would be a kind token to commemorate your victory by.”

Sunggyu’s lips mushed into something devious, realizing his mistake in underestimating her. “The fool is one who thinks she knows it all. Miss Jang, take my words as a heed of advice. Do not trust anyone.”

He bowed, lifting his head to display the faintest hint of a malicious smirk. The entire situation was his gameplay, and Woohyun was one among his numerous pawns. If a pawn failed to checkmate the opponent, it was up to Sunggyu to turn its failure into a favorable outcome. With the final seed of doubt planted in her, he left them.

“You seem a little pale. Has he spoken anything out of the ordinary?” Woohyun asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.

“Nothing of importance,” she replied. Unlike Woohyun, Hyunmi’s emotions dallied on her face without a sense of secrecy. Clearly, she chose not to concede to him, and Woohyun knew.

Uncanny how Sunggyu chose to speak to Hyunmi instead of him, certainly uttering words to brew chaos into order. Yet, if Sunggyu started interrogating him, Woohyun knew he’d be unable to deny the claims. As she had said, some truths were better left unspoken.

“I see Mr. Sungjong!” Hyunmi suddenly shouted. Her excitement withered as she remembered the feud they had parted with. They weren’t friends, neither were they acquaintances. He had every reason to turn his back on her, and yet, upon sighting her, Sungjong strode forward.

In anticipation, Hyunmi picked up two wine glasses from the tray. She handed one to Sungjong and kept the other for herself. “I offer you my deepest apology. My intention was never to harm you, and I wish for you to reconcile with your brother.” She rested her hand on her heart to make an earnest vow.

Sungjong squinted his eyes, her words invaded his mind repeatedly, provoking buried thoughts to resurface.

“Merely wishing does nothing, Miss Hyunmi. I would much rather you take part in the reconciliation,” Sungjong began, taking a sip of the wine. He could use this chance to oppress her assistance. “Talk to my brother in my stead, requesting his forgiveness for the both of us.”

Woohyun arched his eyebrows, lancing him with a frown. “Why aren’t I offered the same task?”

“Because you cannot charm or manipulate my brother the way she would be able to,” Sungjong spoke, a grin settling on his face. He averted his gaze back to the one pleading for his mercy. “If you genuinely wish to apologize, I expect no less from you.”

“Very well, I make my amendments as a peace offering,” Hyunmi said, holding her wine glass up.

“Terrific,” Sungjong grinned, bringing his own glass against hers for the seal of a verbal agreement. “Now, how is the wretched harlot coping at the orphanage after a week’s passing?”

“She has a name, and it’s Shin Jineul,” Hyunmi reminded using the tone of a reprimanding lecturer.

“If you bear this much curiosity, surely you must care for her. Why don’t you visit us someday? I am certain she desires to have someone to quarrel with,” Woohyun spoke, half intending to jest with him.

Jineul fought with most of them on daily basis, making an exception for Rika and Hyunmi for being female, and Dongwoo who was too ill to harbor any sinful intentions. To the rest of the boys, it was pretty common to have books and pillows thrown at them. Sometimes she called them foul names, which Hyunmi scolded her for in fear it would taint Donghyun’s pure ears. Among all, Jineul’s favorite victim was Youngtaek whose patience ran as short as hers.

“I do not care for that monkey demon!” Sungjong said, jutting his lips to show his intense disgust at the thought alone. “However, I shall pay a visit to Miss Hyunmi. Obtaining the reason for my brother’s resentment puts you in good standing with me.”

“You can’t be serious! It is a family squabble, why should you require her involvement?” Woohyun asked.

“My brother refuses to listen to me. Mayhap, he may fall in love with Miss Hyunmi, marry her, and give her the right to involve herself in our family matters,” Sungjong said, a mocking grin playing on his lips. He believed he had found a new method to aggravate Woohyun with.

“That is the most ridiculous speech you have ever uttered, which is highly unlikely considering your speeches are always robbed off any intelligence.”

“Is it? I happen to think Miss Hyunmi looks ravishing in this red dress, a seemingly popular opinion among us men tonight,” Sungjong continued provoking the elder for having such a frail heart.

The way Woohyun gritted his teeth, and tethered away from his usual gallant speech was a clear indication for valuing the woman above his conscience. Sungjong wondered whether the elder remembered his initial task to obtain the house when a certain lady seemed to occupy his entire mind, as of late.

The two men continued bickering, attracting Myungsoo and Seulyi to rejoin them. Identifying the subject of the bickering, they now took greater interest in Hyunmi who was still a destitute plebeian dressed in unobtainable riches.

“I heard of your early departure during our former party. Hopefully, you regard tonight’s event favorably,” Myungsoo spoke, his tone practiced with the serenity and unbiased opinion of a sound judge.

“Certainly. You and Mrs. Kim have greatly entertained your guests,” she answered with default courtesy. She may not have attended many parties, but knew to impose proper manners to settle her gratitude.

He smiled a smile that limited his real emotions to one of formality—another aspect required for this occupation. “How pleasing it is to witness your effervescent reaction. As hosts we may feel drained from ensuring constant enjoyment, but it encapsulates us with joy to see the guests merry at heart.”

“Perhaps you have grown accustomed to the grandiose festivities. You may try delighting in a simpler form of entertainment,” Hyunmi suggested, providing a solution.

Seulyi interrupted with piqued interest. “Do you happen to know any talented entertainers among your kind?”

Hyunmi should’ve known the friendliness remained a facade on the outside. How dared she classify the pariah into a kind of their own, as if they were dogs or insects? Yet, she grew quite adept at feigning a polite smile by now.

Her short temper was another flaw Woohyun had learned of her. Recognizing the unintentional provocation, he quickly grabbed her by the wrist, receding her rage and speaking in her stead. “Mr. and Mrs. Kim, have you ever had your portrait drawn?”

“Nay, never. Artists lock themselves up in their studios all day, fearing their muse would leave when disturbed. The ones who agree try to loiter our money for a single commission,” Myungsoo spoke, his eyes shimmering with anticipation. For once, he showed the closest resemblance to a humane emotion.

“We know of an artist, so splendid, you would wish to have your drawn out portrait framed in your house. Having been a subject myself, I can attest to this,” Woohyun said proudly, having received an earlier privilege.

“Splendid! You must bring him here! I can hardly wait to have my and my lovely wife’s portrait drawn.” Myungsoo released his true emotions, clapping his hand like a jolly child. No amount of grand parties or just cases could amount to his current jubilee.

“At your service,” Woohyun said, rotating his wrist and flourishing a bow. He met Hyunmi’s eyes when raising his head, flashing a glimpse of his smile.

Recognizing his intention had been easy, but unveiling the reason behind it wasn’t. If he managed to evoke acceptance from the most influential couple, it could institute a grand change between the different disparities. It was risky, it was fearless, and therefore brilliant! The rich man she once abhorred managed to create an opportunity for a low ranked pariah to prove her worth as a female artist.

For that reason, she could not conceal the mesmerized gaze she held dear for him, almost resembling a woman whose stubborn heart had finally acknowledged defeat.


	13. Talent

The most onerous statement to possibly depart from one’s lips consisted of three simple words: I love you. The declaration required the relinquishing of one’s pride, driven asunder to become vulnerable. It bestowed a chance to damage one’s soul. When overcome, it tells of an affliction eclipsed by forthcoming glory.

Jangjun was aware of this knowledge. The genuinity he bore for Rika could withstand any barriers. His limitation wasn’t found in differing social classes, but rather, in the form of sealed lips, trembling hands, and the inability to translate his emotions out loud.

“Perhaps I should require the assistance of a mentor,” Jangjun consulted with Youngtaek. The image of a particular man sprang in his head. His parents’ absence robbed him of an exemplary couple to look up to, therefore seeking console in Woohyun and Hyunmi.

Youngtaek called it a deceptive trap; akin to a carnivorous plant implementing the splendor of beauty and sweet fragrance to lure its prey toward death. Such flora he likened to Woohyun, and Jangjun replied with a dismissive laugh.

Even if deception had originally been intended, such malice could hardly be found nowadays. Hyunmi no longer addressed him with a speech of apathy, instead, managing to protrude a look of benign respect whenever her gaze landed on him. When Woohyun jested or made an exaggerated declaration of his affections, he always sought her approval, never failing to quirk her lips into a bashful smile. He was a clever man, knowing how to melt even the coldest hearts. From such a man, Jangjun was determined to obtain discipleship.

He planned to lavish Rika with a confession. But upon arrival of the couple, Jangjun noticed their unusual bright smiles, their furtive glances at one another, and their inability to stay separated. He expected some sort of merry announcement.

“Rika, how would you like the opportunity to sketch a portrait of the most renowned couple?” Hyunmi asked, bridging the emotions through her elated tone, rocking on her feet in suspense.

“I have already made both of you my subject. Unless you wish to be drawn as a couple, my heart would be compelled to do so.” Rika sang, her eyes widened at the opportunity.

Woohyun chuckled, seeming to have imparted the skills of eloquence to the orphans. “I am flattered, truly, and will hold you accountable to your offer. However, we are presenting an opportunity beyond your imaginations, one that could alter the despairing segregation within our society.”

The orphans simultaneously blinked their eyes in confusion and anticipation.

“Draw who?” Dongwoo asked, his eyes and mouth forming a perfect circle.

“Mr. Kim Myungsoo and his wife,” Woohyun announced before Hyunmi had the chance to speak. He gave her a look of triumph and mischief, welcoming the way she softly slapped his arm. Ah, the blessing of straying away from their initial agreement was that faint brush of her touch. Nevertheless, the children showed similar reactions of joy and disbelief.

“Mr. Nam brilliantly suggested the idea. He spoke only good things regarding your abilities, Rika. His descriptions provoked envy and desire had I not have my portrait drawn prior,” Hyunmi added, dreamily clasping her hands together at the remembrance.

“Please, carry on. I hardly hear you speak so highly of me. It exceeds the chorus of heaven’s angelic choir,” Woohyun exaggerated per usual.

“Had you presented yourself more favorably, perhaps I would elevate you more often,” she retorted with a grin.

“Ah,” Woohyun hummed, feigning perfect understanding as he moved closer to her, imparting words only she would hear. “I suppose our intimacy in your room remains a secret for the two of us to share then.”

He pulled away with a teasing grin, the ambiguity  of his words leaving her with a blush. The dilemma imprinted on her face greatly satisfied him. No longer did she deflect his words in her usual defiance—he could hardly remember when she last penetrated him using wounding words.

The sight exerted a great loathing from Youngtaek, envious of the reactions Woohyun managed to extract from the woman he fancied. Out of jealousy, he pulled Hyunmi away from the man. Thankfully, no questions were posed when all focus returned on Rika’s sudden groan.

She panicked as insecurities suddenly barged her heart uninvitedly. “I do not have the courage or skills to portray such well known personas.”

“Do not worry, Rika,” Woohyun assured her with a hand on her shoulder. “I myself am a well known persona, and your drawing greatly satisfied me. Why, in fact, I believe you should draw me another portrait.”

“How so, Mr. Nam?”

“To gift Miss Hyunmi an image to stare at should she miss me during my absence,” Woohyun sang, earning a few giggles from the others.

“You regard yourself too highly,” Hyunmi said, scoffing at his ridiculous statement.

“I desire to regard myself compatible to a woman whose opinion could start a revolutionary war,” Woohyun said, referring to her irradical views. In an oppressed society whereby people were compelled to hold their silence, her voice became the uproar to minister a change. If not to many, at least to him.

“I agree with Mr. Nam,” Jangjun began, nervous when Rika presented her undivided attention to him. Her ponytail flicked behind her, looking eagerly to obtain his encouragement. “Do not underestimate the greatness you are capable of. By letting fear overtake you, you are limiting yourself from bigger possibilities. I do not wish for you to ponder on those false thoughts.”

Rika’s eyes began to mist. As she opened her mouth to reply, he raised a finger.

“Repeatedly, I asked you not to forsake your abilities, and I shall never cease in doing so. When you consider yourself unworthy, allow me to remind you of your worth. You are precious…to all of us!” Jangjun stammered, scratching the nape of his neck as color rose to his face. He did not expect to intertwine his confession with the need to surge her confidence. He barely dared to meet her eyes, instead glancing sideways to watch Youngtaek scowl and Woohyun nod approvingly.

“Very well,” Rika surrendered. “Nobody knows me the way you do. Your faith is immeasurable, and I can’t possibly reject you.”

“Do remember your verbal oath, Rika. Another occasion may present itself whereby he shall require those exact words,” Woohyun mused, of course versing of Jangjun’s feelings. The other orphans picked up on his subliminal message, stifling their giggles behind her hand.

“Certainly! I shall not disappoint him, or any of you. Tell me what to do, and I shall abide,” Rika said, as determined as a soldier awaiting command.

“First, you should get some proper rest. Thereby, you can showcase your utmost performance tomorrow,” Hyunmi spoke, using a tone indicating her words weren’t negotiable.

“Do we get to come along?” Sungyoon questioned.

“I do not care for you rotten pigs, but I shall go with them. I would rather hang myself from the second floor window than remain among you filthy predators!” Jineul spoke, displaying her greatest temperament.

Joochan was quick to cover Donghyun’s innocent ears. “Do not speak foul in the presence of a child.”

But Donghyun wriggled himself out of Joochan’s confinement and ran to Hyunmi, hugging her by the waist. “I wish to join you, mother.”

Hyunmi bit her lips, weakened by the little boy’s shimmering eyes of hope. She nearly gave her consent, but upon remembrance of her brother, realized the answer was a clear no.

Though the Kim couple bestowed their tolerance, similar benevolence was not privileged to the mentally ill. She feared the foul treatment and ridicule Dongwoo would receive in public. Why did the world regard differences as a notion of sin while it was, in fact, a worthy of a celebration? Being different meant originality, and embracing one’s originality should never deserve a punishment.

“Stay.” Dongwoo suddenly pointed at himself. His speech impairment was compensated by his ability to correctly discern emotions from one’s gaze, especially his sister’s unease in her reflection. Then he pointed at Joochan. “Go.”

“Me?” The boy asked, perplexed. He looked around in search for affirmation.

Dongwoo held one arm in midair, then wiggled the fingers of his hand in front to imitate the motion of tickling someone. “You play.”

“Oh! You must play the guitar. You shall enchant them all,” Rika spoke, grabbing Joochan’s hands in hers, bringing him to a one-sided celebratory dance.

“I couldn’t possibly carry it with me,” Joochan said hesitantly.

“Worry not. The Kim household stores numerous musical instruments. I believe they also have a piano,” Woohyun spoke, having been to every corner of the mansion before. “Do you know how to play a piano?”

Joochan tucked his lips together before giving another hesitant nod.

“A man who plays a musical instrument is absurd,” Jineul interrupted.

“The world advances not through the ordinary, but through the absurdity of the extraordinary,” Hyunmi reminded the frowning girl. Then she remembered another item of concern. “Daeyeol—”

“Rest assured, you may depart with ease. I shall keep watch,” Daeyeol spoke, taking up his role as second in command during Hyunmi’s absence. He knew what she inquired before the words departed her lips.

Hyunmi offered a glance of relief, mouthing silent words of gratitude. She watched the orphans return to their room, leaving the three eldest nearby the hearth.

Dongwoo approached Woohyun, a firm hand falling on the lad’s shoulder, the most genuine smile making an appearance. “You good man.”

It was the second time Woohyun heard those words belowed to him, and his stomach churned with unease and guilt. His crimes transcended too deeply above their mercy. Yet, the very words he waited a lifetime to hear from his loved ones ironically ended up being spoken by the two people he wronged the most. He loathed himself, knowing he had exchanged their kindness for his viper’s tongue.

“I earnestly pray for it to be so,” Woohyun spoke softly, flashing the glimpse of a ghosting smile. He nodded at the two siblings before drawling upstairs.

Strange, Hyunmi thought. He did not speak with his usual coquettish tendency, neither did he jest in favor of her smile. There was a concealed side he didn’t share that night. Her eyes lingered on the spot he previously occupied, silently searching for answers. The absence of his usual flamboyance filled her heart with indecipherable concern and longing.

She had forgotten Dongwoo’s presence; forgot to isolate her emotions from public’s eyes. Her brother noticed. He never required words to gain an enlightenment, learning to read her emotions through sublime hints.

Dongwoo smiled, foreseeing this moment since the beginning. He abstained himself from any involvement, allowing his sister to understand the true mirth she sought for from the wealthy man.

***

Early morning, they boarded the small coach toward the Kim mansion. The absence of a celebration resulted in the mansion’s plain emptiness, a disturbing silence bounced off from their creamy wallpapers.

“Good afternoon. Pleasure to meet you all,” Seulyi greeted, offering Woohyun her hand. Then she turned to Hyunmi, and confusion writhed between her frowns. Without the attire of a noble class woman, Seulyi awkwardly tilted her lips in a scrutinizing manner, denying acknowledgement.

“Pleasure, indeed,” Hyunmi spoke, biting on a pretentious smile. Yesterday’s kindness proved to be artificial. Hyunmi would’ve acted with misdemeanor had a familiar warmth not grazed her fingers. Woohyun’s gentle restrain fostered a new obscure thought to replace the derision. Even if the world denied her, she would find contentment in his acceptance.

“This place is enormous! We could have our individual rooms,” Rika remarked, nudging Jineul who nodded calmly. Her eyes covered every corner, discovering more as they ascended the stairs. One could grow dizzy watching her twirl with every step.

“Would you consider staying if the chance arises?” Joochan asked, eyeing an anxious Jangjun.

“Why, certainly! Only a fool would deny the privilege,” Rika spoke, indulging in the sight. She visualized the mansion set in its might and glory, crowded dancing pairs in colorful gowns, swaying around the dance floor in rhythm of the music. How wonderful it must’ve been.

“My husband awaits your arrival in the library. We put up the greatest representation of ourselves today in preparation for the portrait,” Seulyi said, bragging about the feathery blue dress she wore, a faint resemblance to a peacock.

“You have always appeared at your best without much effort,” Woohyun spoke, worthy of his status as the charmer.

Upon hearing the remark, something began to twist in Hyunmi’s chest. The fluttering feeling from holding his hands vanished. She let go, trying to analyze what strange emotions invaded her.

Seulyi giggled at his remark, but returned to the icy beauty when entering. The room where Hyunmi had been taken to during her first visit was nearby, but in contrast, the library was much more receptive of guests. Rows of window made up the entire wall, welcoming a spectacle of luminous beams. At the center of the room, glowing like a god himself, was Kim Myungsoo.

His beauty captivated Rika whose eyes forgot to take in the rest of the world. Jineul showed complete ignorance once the figure was identified as male. Joochan eyed the old piano discarded in the lonesome corner. And poor Jangjun regarded the handsome judge with apathy.

“Mr. Nam, Miss Jang, I have greatly anticipated your visit!” Myungsoo went over to greet them. The composure of the judge was seen no more, preceded by the persona of a jolly child. “I purchased the sturdiest canvas embellished with golden frames, along with the finest oil paint in preparation of the grand masterpiece. I hope I have not gone overboard with my excitement. It is impossible to nurture it.”

Rika’s eyes sprung open, afraid to count the cumulative worth of such foreign items. Her knowledge was limited to her trusted pencil and piece of paper. Framed canvases and oil paints were part of a distant myth. Today, she lived the myth.

“Now, who among these two boys shall do us the honor?” Myungsoo asked, averting his giddy sight between Jangjun and Joochan.

“Uhm,” Rika slowly dared herself to raise her hand, “That would be me, sir.”

Myungsoo and Seulyi turned to her direction, not having noticed her presence. She was female and lowly ranked, therefore undeserving of their attention.

“You must be jesting us, Woohyun,” Seulyi turned to her friend. Her jeweled eyes lost its shine, glaring at the face of a betrayer. “A female cannot possibly display artistic abilities on such a grand scale.”

Hyunmi huffed, prepared to retaliate against her words, but was once again preceded by Woohyun’s remark.

“It is an opinion society enforces on us. Yet, how many women hide their abilities in fear of mockery? Hearken the manner with which you impose prejudice upon her without having seen her foremost skills,” Woohyun spoke, his tone frivolous, but his gaze grim. He sauntered to the blank canvas, picking up a dry paintbrush to fiddle with. “Mr. Kim, I truly expected more from the honorable judge you are known for.”

The scornful remark did a splendid job at offending the man of justice, and Myungsoo swallowed the nervousness down his throat. “Forgive us. As you have mentioned yourself, it is a notion far too foreign for us to cope with. However, if she truly is as remarkable as you have made her out to be, I wish to see it with my very own eyes.”

“Ah, such open mindedness can only be possessed by you, Your Honor,” Woohyun spoke respectfully as if they were in court. He twirled his hand toward Rika, handing her the paintbrush.

“But Mr. Nam, they speak the truth. I have never drawn on a canvas, nor have I touched a paintbrush before,” Rika stammered, pinching her fingers together, wishing she had not been blinded to accept the commission.

“Those exact words you would have spoken regarding a paper and pencil years ago, yet a wonderful creation bloomed forth after your constant endeavors. Let me repeat myself once again, Rika. Under the hands of a skilful artist, even the most ordinary tools contains the ability to create a great masterpiece. The medium may refine your work, but the talent lied within you all along.”

Rika’s lips twitched into a grateful smile, eyes nearly misting at the faith placed upon her. She nodded her head once, staring at her friends for silent encouragement, and walked to the canvas.

“Tell us the manner we should pose with when you are ready to begin,” Myungsoo spoke, taking his wife’s hand to sit on the chair he prepared by the window. She looked less than pleased, her lips pouting into a sulk, and her rosy cheeks burning with irritation.

“You may sit comfortably, sir. I shall only require you to stay still for a period of time,” Rika answered. She studied the object of her painting, blurring them into shapes and colors to translate unto her canvas. She studied the hue, deciphering which colors would achieve the same balance. And thus, she began mixing the oil paints, splattering colors, drawing strokes, overcoming fears, and creating a masterpiece.

“Forgive me, Jangjun. I would’ve asked you to comfort her, but I do not wish to tally here for too long. I have other things on my agenda,” Woohyun told the younger boy who looked a little dejected for not being the one to encourage Rika.

“I am grateful to you, for you have spoken wise words beyond my ability to compose. But Mr. Nam, what other agendas could you possibly attend to?” Jangjun questioned, blinking his eyes.

“Why, to take the lovely Miss Hyunmi on a walk, of course,” Woohyun spoke, his lips shaping into an exuberant smile whenever she became the subject of his speech. He offered her his arm, winking. “I hope you shan’t deny my humble request. I request your private audience on this tour around the house.”

Hyunmi barely suppressed her smile, amused by his forward attempts. Despite her concern towards his unusual silence the night prior, or the strange emotion she experienced as he complimented Seulyi, all seemed nullified at the sight of his impish grin.

“As flattered as I am about not having been granted a choice, allow me to tend to my second affair of today’s visitation first,” she said, drawing attention from the married couple whose eyes trailed to her despite remaining frozen in position. Even Woohyun stood surprised, and she couldn’t help notice the resemblance to an adorable lost puppy.

“What may that be?” Myungsoo inquired.

“I contemplate the boredom holding you still, Mr. and Mrs. Kim, and have therefore prepared another form of entertainment to amuse you with.” She strode towards Joochan and gently laid her hand on his shoulders. “Allow me to introduce the talented musician, Joochan.”

The baffled expression on the couple’s face represented the reaction of the world. Women, though inferior, were required to play musical instruments and keep art to themselves. Men, though excelling at many talents, should never boast their musicality, which was a talent for the feminine.

“It is truly absurd,” Jineul mumbled, raised by the beliefs of society even at her previous place of employment.

“Now, now, wipe away those scornful frowns. He is a real maestro howbeit his composed demeanor,” Woohyun quickly added, remembering his awe upon listening to Joochan’s music for the very first time.

“Heavens! What a strange household you live with, Mr. Woohyun. A female painter and a male musician, what else will you bemuse us with?” Myungsoo asked, forgetting to hold his pose when excitement overpowered him. He motioned to the old piano with the most genuine expression on his face. “Please, be my guest and play us a song.”

Truth be told, the last time Joochan touched a piano was a time prior to his street life. Remembering the tune was akin to remembering his parents: blurry and buried deep within his memories.

However, Joochan loathed to disappoint others. Despite knowing Hyunmi wouldn’t scold him for not playing, and Woohyun would support the decision of his readiness, he still wished to make them proud. They took radical steps to advocate his passion in front of the rich, both prepared to defend him relentlessly if any ridicule arose.

He shasayed his way to the piano, taking a seat, pressing a white key. How beautiful the ‘do’ sounded, slightly off tuned in its rawest form, but musical nonetheless. Warm memories of his past infiltrated his mind; a runaway scenario he concealed from everyone.

“Well, play something,” Seulyi insisted, showing her unintended anticipation for his performance.

Joochan hovered both hands over the white keys, his fingers positioning itself into the bits he remembered of the major scale. The tune played in his head, recalling the candence it would translate to in reality. Then his fingers moved, and everyone marveled.

“Remarkable,” Woohyun whispered. The manner the boy mastered the guitar was impressive, but the flawed melody of the old piano became a bittersweet sonata that greatly appeased him. The boy was talented, and he wished the world could listen along.

His eyes darted sideways, studying a similar expression of awe on Hyunmi’s face. He realized then, it was her first time hearing Joochan play the piano. Their austere situation did not provide the luxury of owning a piano, barricading the boy from showcasing his true skill.

“I am most pleased. This boy is a gem!” Myungsoo exclaimed, looking at Woohyun with a wide smile. “You have fine eyes for talent.”

“I can not acclaim your compliment for myself. I conceded only because Miss Jang reprimanded me for my trite opinions,” Woohyun spoke.

Hyunmi curiously regarded him, wondering whether his unusual humbleness appeared at the company of his peers.

“Look at the way she stares at you, Woohyun. Even I have not spared a glance at my husband using such tenderness. Please, take leave and continue your courtship,” Seulyi teased, using her hands to shoo them away. “We shall enjoy the entertainment you left us with.”

“I can’t deny a lady’s request.” Woohyun bowed to his friend. Then taking Hyunmi’s hand in his, he excused themselves toward the hallway of serenity. Jangjun and Jineul did not seem to question their incentive, preferring to stay in the room.

Once alone, Hyunmi contemplated what to do about the hold. It would be unlike her character to continue basking in his graze, to savor the moments of his soft skin pressed against hers, to fantasize a world without any despair for their differences. Alas, such things were not possible, and she let go. Her eyes met his, and she saw the gaze of slight disappointment quickly masked by his usual smile.

“The size of this place is akin to a maze. If you do not wish to be held by me, you must stay close to prevent yourself from getting lost,” he spoke in the frivolous manner many had been charmed with. Yet, she acquired the ability to discern that small hint of dejection in the way he punctuated his sentences.

“If I lost my way, I am certain you would return for me,” she said, following beside him.

He glanced at her with amusement. “To what do I owe this sudden surge of confidence?”

“To the fact you desire our house and land. It is the real purpose of your stay, isn’t it? Mr. Kim Sunggyu warned me not to trust anyone, including you and your clever wiles,” she said leisurely without weighing her words. Perhaps she was testing his reaction, awaiting a sense of guilt to confirm her skepticism. He froze, but instead of being ridden by his wrongdoings, he gripped her hand and wrapped his long fingers around her smaller ones.

“If he had spoken the truth, would you abstain yourself from me?” He suddenly inquired, hushing his voice to a low whisper. Now his tone was pervaded by desperation.

She glanced at their hands, then averted her eyes back at him. “I don’t believe I could separate myself from you against my heart’s better judgement,” she confessed. Her heart and mind spoke differently, and she chose to follow the whispers of her heart.

“Your should’ve pledged obedience to your mind,” he said, surprising her. Yet, his corresponding action juxtaposed his words, a plea to take distance resulted in a lessened proximity. He hovered his face dangerously close before her lips, nearly touching, but not yet. “I am not the man you think I am. Your admiration would be much better spent elsewhere for I am inferior to your kindness.”

Her eyebrows arched, wondering what had triggered his sudden confession. “Despite mocking you for regarding yourself too highly at times, I prefer your arrogance over this self deprecating stranger in front of me.”

“It is not I who regard myself too highly,” he spoke, eyes fixed on hers. “You do.”

Hyunmi squinted her eyes, a great steam of annoyance preparing to detonate with the depletion of her foul temper. She pushed herself from the wall, lessening their distance. He looked surprised by her sudden rashness, unconsciously wetting his lips, but also afraid of his lack of self control.

“Mr. Nam, allow me to speak a piece of my mind. I have never met a man who frustrates me in the manner you do. You speak the eloquent language of lies and deceit. You degrade women by flirting around as if they were your play things. You boast of your wealth toward those who earn their living through hard labor. But worst of all, you approach innocent civilians with the intention to take away the final memoir their late parents left them with,” she spoke, breathing out her anger through every syllable. The tension gathered in her clenched fist, swaying along to the rising motion of her shoulders.

“And yet,” she continued, softer, “Embraced by isolation since youth, you chose to engage a friendship with lowly servants. You disregard social ranks and see people for who they are, and not for the trash society pertains them to be. You regard children for the talents they will grow into, elevating them in front of your peers as if they were valuable assets. Why, you are the first man who did not reject my ill opinions regarding the society. You accepted them. You accepted _me_.

“Now tell me, Mr. Nam, in what ways are you inferior to my kindness? In what ways should I withhold my gratitude?”

Woohyun swallowed, losing a part of himself when he moved closer, inhaling her sweet flowery fragrance, and lingering his eyes on the lips that uttered words he would never obtain from anyone else.

“Careful, Hyunmi,” he whispered, testing the resonance of his voice before proceeding. His fingers pursued the side of her face, brushing her loose hair strands with a small caress. A woman was most beautiful when she spoke from her heart, and Woohyun did not know when he started seeing her in this manner. He was weakened by a dizzying desire for her.

“If you do not take distance, I am afraid I can’t abstain myself from wanting to kiss you.”

This surprised her, and as much as she recognized the cue to lean away, her body remained fixated in place. Her heart galloped against her chest, unable to deny the strange affection she cherished him with. As it turned out, he had nurtured the same indecent thought she had.

Seeing her unexpected silence dared him to tilt her face closer to him. “Are you granting me permission?”

“Perhaps.”

“You must be jesting with me.”

“Test me and see whether I will meet your lips with my own or a slap of my hand.”

This, he had expected. Woohyun couldn’t help but laugh, seeing the unintended humor in her words. It changed their coy atmosphere to their usual kittenish one.

He leaned away, and the space suffocated her instead. Had she wished for him to remain close? Had she wished for him to continue his impish pursuit? Had he not surrendered so quickly, she might have inclined to a foolish act she would come to regret later.

“In many ways, I am indebted to you,” Woohyun suddenly spoke, pressing a polite kiss against her hand instead of the lips she wished to receive them on. “Mere words could not suffice my most sincere gratitude.”

“Mr. Nam, you allowed Rika and Joochan to showcase their talents to prominent audiences impossible to attain had it not been for your relation. It is I who is indebted to you kindness,” she spoke, lowering herself to a proper lady-like curtsy for once.

The wisp of a smile grazed his lips, suddenly inquiring a heartfelt request. “If you are truly grateful, won’t you call me by name?”

The request, as simple as it was, bore a greater significance. To give permission meant to acknowledge the possible advancement in their relationship, to let it bloom into something more intimate, and to allow society’s judgement to ridicule him. The least she wanted was to lower him to her class. Calling him by name would bear the same weight as the onerous statement to depart one’s lips, and such commitment she couldn’t possibly burden him with.

“Had you asked to hear about my past, I’d be more inclined to grant your request,” she said, lingering her eyes on him in a pseudo pained gaze. Her smile kept slipping down, wondering why her chest hurt when realizing they could never be. It was an affliction no forthcoming glory could eclipse. To cherish him would’ve been foolish.

She was a fool, indeed.


	14. Curiosity

Curiosity was a dangerous game, for it could amend one’s action through a morose mystery better left alone. The fear of the unknown triggered the drive for curiosity, because no men savored being strippd off any knowledge; especially regarding their own future.

“I retract my inquiry and will replace it as per your suggestion,” Woohyun said, quickly pacing himself beside her as they passed the barren corridors. Not a single painting decorated the second floor like it did the grand ballroom.

“I am afraid that offer no longer stands. I was making a figurative comparison,” Hyunmi said, smiling at him in her beguiling manner. She never intended to reveal her past to him, and if it was supposed to offend him, he grinned instead.

“Ergo, which part of your past am I entitled knowledge of?”

She turned to him with a smile playing on the tip of her lips. “The one that takes place after our first encounter.”

“My wisdom extends to that exact point of time, not beyond it. What I require knowledge of is one I have yet to discover,” he argued. They had been living under the same roof for the past few months, and naturally he came to learn more about her than anyone else. It was difficult not to notice her quirks or habits when his eyes reluctantly singled her out from a crowd—always searching, always finding. However, he was greedy when it came to learning about her.

“Do you truly, Mr. Nam?” She asked, inching closer as if it had been her intention to stop his breath to a small hitch all along. She coyly smiled at him, playing the part of the charmer for once. “Are you aware of my opinions over you?”

“You quite like me, that much we have established,” Woohyun said. He found this all too intriguing, the manner with which they inspirit each other with many unresolved questions, and yet spoke as if they had been each other’s most trusted confidant for years.

“Things change over time, Mr. Nam.”

Woohyun flinched, wondering whether the changes she spoke of were for the better or for the worse. What if she still believed he wanted her house? Would she despise him? Did he still desire her house, or did he desire her?

“Is your mansion as expansive as the Kim’s estate, or should I expect a grander scale from the town’s wealthiest man?” She suddenly asked, slight derision riding her singsong voice. Her gaze was now on the doors along the corridor, multiple of them, all locked.

He wondered where this was coming from. Moments ago she spoke so highly of him, as if she believed he was different from the wealthy people she loathed. Now, she emphasized his status again, almost like a reminder to herself.

“It is, in fact, smaller. But the emptiness stretches beyond the corner of every room, trapping a young boy in his personal cell of isolation,” he answered, not knowing why he kept repeating his past to her. A part of him wished to take her there and fill the loneliest corners of the room with her presence, but circumstances wouldn’t permit it.

He watched her reaction, her eyes flicker with guilt rather than sympathy, anger rather than sadness. Then her fist unclenched, and she released a long sigh.

“Have you managed to pursue happiness, then?”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Woohyun confessed. For the first time, he managed to differentiate deceit from the truth, no longer doubting what had taken hold of his reality. “With the children, Dongwoo, and especially with you, I find the warmth I’ve been excluded from my entire life.”

His response curved her lips into the most dazzling smile he had seen, and he wondered whether people emitted more beauty when they were aware of their positive impact on their surroundings. If only she could see herself through his eyes, she’d be surprised to see her own radiance.

“Were you stripped off your happiness prior to your stay with us?” She asked again.

Recalling the days before she had entered his life was nearly impossible, for his world unconsciously began to revolve around her. Before her, he only had one task.

“My happiness was dependant of Mr. Sunggyu and our accomplishments. He is the most renowned tycoon with a mind for growth and I longed to become like him.” He tried to understand the ease of his confession, how it slipped out of his tongue like flowing water on a riverbed.

Hyunmi’s gaze hardened by now. “Why should you desire to be an imitation of someone else when the originality you were formed with allows you to accomplish greater things? Had you been a duplicate of Mr. Kim, I would censure you of my tolerance.”

Woohyun laughed, enthralled by her speech. The manner she favored him with made her glow like the angel of mercy. He had sought approval his entire life; from his parents who abandoned him home alone, from the servants who—despite their friendship—couldn't unsee his authority as a master, and from Sunggyu who would eternally oppress Woohyun’s self worth. His long needed approval was finally delivered, through her. How he yearned for her touch.

“Do you know what sort of businesses he engages in?” She questioned sternly. Kim Sunggyu never struck her an honest man, and she needed Woohyun to align his understanding.

“A restaurant, an inn, a pub, a saloon…”

“You can’t truly believe that.” Hyunmi scoffed, clearly mocking the greatest subject of her abomination. “I doubt he earns his money through an ethical manner.”

His emotions were jarred, from the dizzying smell of her fragrance he wished to drown himself in, to a sudden fury rising in him. He snapped.

“I understand you loathe the rich and aren’t too fond of him, but you musn’t forget he is a dear friend of mine. Without him, I would’ve been nothing. He allowed me to partake in his business ideas through my investments. Perhaps you are wrong about him as you had been about me.”

The cautious but benign glint in Hyunmi’s eyes narrowed to something more sinister. The loyalty Woohyun gifted his friends with could easily be manipulated, and Sunggyu’s cruelty employed this knowledge to his advantage.

“Perhaps I had been wrong about you too,” she said, hoping he could’ve been key to instigate a change. His benevolence didn’t allow him to turn his back on his friends, and it was an admirable trait as much as it was foolish.

Woohyun watched her turn to the library, leaving him be. He did not wish to be rejected by her, but pertained no knowledge to mend the situation. For once, not even his beguiling mannerism could save him.

***

Once they returned to the library, two unexpected guests awaited. Sitting on the other side of the chamber were the Lee brothers. They both wore a red and black checkered vest, showing the sublime golden brooch fastened in front, worn like a proud family flag.

“My, have you returned so quickly? I would have expected you to enjoy more leisure times in private,” Seulyi commented, tilting her lips in the most suggestive grin a proper lady could muster.

Hyunmi exchanged a furtive eye contact with Sungjong, remembering the favor of mercy she was required to perform. Her gaze fell on Sungyeol who regarded her curiously, dissecting her from head to toe with his eyes.

“I wish to speak with Mr. Lee Sungyeol instead,” Hyunmi said. She approached the man with a polite curtsy, and tilted her dress enough to watch his eyes trail the bare skin of her ankles. “Foremost, I apologize the manner with which I may have offended you during our past encounter. My speech were untamed like a wild beast, but only now do I marvel the true wonder of your achievements.”

“My achievements?” Sungyeol raised his eyebrows, leaning back against the chair, allowing her to elevate his arrogance. “What may they be?”

“You are a partner to Mr. Kim Sunggyu. However, I am aware of your true brilliance which many may have no recollection of. You feed him new ideas, are the true brain behind each enterprise, and ensure the stability in which they operate,” she said, tilting her head with a smile. “Moreover, your true accomplishment lies in your handsome looks.”

Sungyeol looked up in surprise, letting a wide arrogant smile glide over his face. His eyes flickered toward Woohyun, seeing anger flash through his eyes. What an interesting situation this evolved to.

“Do you find me handsome? Mayhap, you bear a certain desire for me? My offer stands and I’d be willing to take you in as my personal servant. Pleasing me you shall, in many ways,” Sungyeol spoke, eyeing the women with lustful eyes. She was quite a beauty when her lips were sealed from her unfavorable opinions and complaints. Behind the long dress, he read the slender curve of her body, the fall of her long black hair against her chest, the coquettish look in her doe eyes, and the scarlet thread in her lips. A curiosity brew, and he understood the reason behind Woohyun’s interest in her.

At this remark, Sungjong uncomfortably shifted, daring himself to glance at Woohyun. When he requested Hyunmi to plead his case, he didn’t expect her to master the art of seduction through a well crafted speech. In many ways, she was truly akin and compatible to Woohyun. If that were the case, she may excel in a way Woohyun would utterly detest.

“My ability to please you is correlated to the manner with which you can please me. Do you wish to make the barter?” She asked, eyes hollow from real emotions, displaying the glimpse of a smirk instead.

Sungjong saw the twitch in Woohyun’s lips, no longer smiling frivolously in his usual annoying manner. Everyone else in the room seemed to be occupied; Rika kept applying paint splatters to the canvas, Jangjun assisted her when her hands grew tired of holding the palette, and Joochan played a fine melody as if nothing had happened. All except for Jineul, who attentively watched along.

“Interesting. In what ways could I possibly please you, other than the obvious?” Sungyeol smiled arrogantly, vanity written over it.

Hyunmi suppressed the urge to turn around and meet Woohyun’s eyes, wondering what he thought of her negotiations. Judging on Sungjong’s nervous glances, it seemed she was intently being watched by the man whose opinion she valued most. It restrained her from fully breaking Sungyeol, knowing those same actions could break the man she cherished as well. Yet, she cautiously leaned closer to Sungyeol to uphold her end of the agreement.

“I wish to serve a noble master,” Hyunmi lowered her voice, concealing it from Woohyun. “One who knows how to treat his family members.”

“Ah, is this what it is about?” Sungyeol questioned, glancing at Sungjong who anxiously watched their exchange. Who was this Jang Hyunmi to risk so much for his little brother? His curiosity made his adrenaline pump, amused to have been caught in this web.

“Since I am feeling generous, allow me to share a fact you wished you had known prior to your pathetic involvement.” He grabbed Hyunmi by the arm, roughly yanking her against him. She let out a small cry, but his heart was trained to show no mercy. He bent forward to her, his lips against her ears, and in a hot breath whispered: “He ain’t my family.”

Hyunmi barely had time to process his words, let alone elicit a gasp. She was up and away from Sungyeol, suddenly held close in the arm of Woohyun. A small voice tempted her to rest her head against his chest, to listen to his heartbeat, to blanket herself with his fougere scent, but she knew better.

“Your malign intention ends here,” Woohyun spoke sternly.

Sungyeol had never seen his friend regard him with a murderous glare. All because of one girl. Surely this had to be reported to Kim Sunggyu; Woohyun was no longer an effective pawn.

“Do put a leash on your woman. She was the one who offered herself to me. Haven’t you been treating her well?” Sungyeol provoked.

The statement brought Hyunmi differing emotions. The resonance of ‘your woman’ had a pleasing sound to it, and the thought of being bound to one man suddenly became bearable. But Sungyeol had objectified her, reinstating the fact women were vettered from free will.

The realization channeled her anger, as did Woohyun’s. She felt his muscles tighten around her, releasing as he strode forward to the arrogant man in the chair. If a fight ensued, Woohyun would taint his good name. She couldn’t allow it.

“Mr. Nam, restrain yourself!” She quickly spoke, holding unto his arm using her entire might, feeling a stronger power surge his anger.

As Woohyun turned, finally meeting her eyes, reading her plea, another incident occurred which none had accounted for. A female scream echoed—akin to a female warrior—charging forward as it tackled Sungyeol off his chair. The violence came from Jineul.

“You wretched muck snipe! How dare you degrade mother in such a manner? I should cut your tongue in seven perpendicular pieces and feed them to stray dogs. Even then they wouldn’t come near, mistaking it for feces, because everything your mouth excretes reeks of crap!”

It was about time to put a halt to Jineul’s action, but their petrified nature prevented them from doing so. No one noticed the fleeting smile briefly flickering over Sungjong’s face.

“Well, get that imbecile off of Mr. Sungyeol! I don’t want the carpets to stain with blood!” Seulyi was the one to voice out a shrill, pointing her trembling fingers to the peculiar scene.

Sungjong and Jangjun quickly took the cue to haul Jineul away. Even from afar, she continued punching and kicking towards Sungyeol. For a boney girl, her strength needed two men to restrain.

“Let me beat him to death. It is the punishment he deserves! Burn in hell, you deviant devil’s son!” Jineul continued spitting her colorful vocabulary.

“Calm down, you’re embarrassing us all,” Jangjun softly whispered.

“I have no shame in protecting the ones I care for. Why should I be embarrassed? The true embarrassment is him!”

Sungyeol returned to his feet, wiping his lips to see a faint trail of blood. That little girl managed to cut his lips, and he only scoffed. “Such is the beastly behavior of the uneducated and low ranked pariahs who are better off on the street. Miss Jang, I thought you’d be more keen on taming the wild beasts at your home cage. If you had stopped seducing my friend like the wicked prostitute you are, perhaps they’d be more civilized.”

Even Joochan had stopped playing the piano, letting the discorded chord become the last irksome tune to linger in the air. Rika nearly dropped her brush, drawing an incongruous red streak over the portrait. Out of all the insults they had ever heard, it did not compare to the foul words they just heard.

“Retract those vile words!” Woohyun released himself from Hyunmi’s grip, charging towards Sungyeol to land a punch on the spot Jineul had previously marked. He knew the way Hyunmi allowed people’s opinion to affect her, despite the strong front she put up as part of her facade. She may retaliate and speak clever counter arguments, but he couldn’t forget that aching look on her face when doubted, or the way she suppressed her tears when he held her in his arms. He would not allow anyone to feed her fears.

“Don’t you dare liken her to a seductress! My attraction towards her are not limited by your poor accusation,” Woohyun spoke, retracting his hand after another hit. Sungyeol’s lips tore, causing more blood to flow out.

He heard Jineul loudly cheering for him, requesting for more damage to be done. But realizing it would never come, she cursed under her breath.

“Stop!” Seulyi panted, a clear sign of annoyance to her tone. Her authority put a halt to the fight, and everyone turned to look at her. “Let me find a servant to retrieve the medical kit. Mr. Sungyeol, it would be best if you followed me.”

Sungyeol took a handkerchief and wiped the blood from his lips, temporarily covering it. He simmered his eyes upon those wrongdoers, Woohyun now a part of them. “Mr. Sunggyu shall not be pleased.”

Then he left the room with Seulyi. As his dark shadow faded, the orphans burst out in loud cheers instead, as if it was another ordinary day at their house, every cause worthy of a celebration.

“Mr. Nam, you looked like the knight in a shining armor defending your princess. How admirable,” Rika swooned with her arms clasped together, forgetting the brush in her hand, painting the red against her own cheek. “How I long to have a knight of my own.”

Jangjun cleared his throat. “I’d make a good knight.”

“You’d be too noisy to become one. A proper knight possesses stealth,” Rika jested, pushing his arm as Jangjun pouted.

“If Donghyun were here, he would refer to you as a hero, Mr. Nam,” Joochan added.

“I may have shifted my perspective about you. You aren’t as detestable as the rest of the male population,” Jineul approved, crossing her arms.

“Well, what a fine honor I have earned,” Woohyun spoke, laughing as the children started praising him with thunderous huzzahs. It filled his heart with warmth, but not as warm as the way Hyunmi leveled her eyes on him, regarding him so tenderly like a porcelain vase on the brink of breaking if she had looked away. He hoped she was no longer infuriated, and curiously approached her.

“How many times do you wish for me to be indebted to you, Mr. Nam?” She asked.

“My actions do not require anything in return. I would willingly fend off anyone who tries to harm you,” he said, unable to hide the vanity in his tone. To any man, the ability to defend a woman dear to himself was a great skill to possess.

Hyunmi gently grabbed his hand, caressing her fingers between the valley of his knuckles, tending to the wound he had formed. “Well then, I must ensure no one ever tries to hurt me again.”

She tried to let go of his hand, but should know better by now. Woohyun was reluctant to. He gripped her fingers in his, and for what he had done for her, she let him thread her fingers the same way he threaded her heart.

Questions invaded her mind, wanting to inquire his previous avowal. Had the words of attraction been truthful? Or had his lies flowed smoothly like the dripping honey of a beehive—sweet but dangerous at the same time. Her curiosity brooded an answer too dangerous to obtain. For if the answer was a yes, she’d be doomed in her own undeniable attraction towards him. Instead, she settled on a simple compromise.

“Thank you.”

Woohyun brought her hand to his lips, ghosting a kiss through the warmth of his breath, conveying he’d be willing to do it all again for her.

“Well, filthy monkey,” Sungjong turned to the violent girl beside him. “What a spectacular show you have put up. My brother has never looked more dashing being beaten by a little girl.”

“I ain’t a little girl. If you wished, I could ensure you’d feel the same pain, moron,” Jineul harshly told him.

“I would rather not. You don’t throw punches like a girl. You frighten me in a way an elephant does,” Sungjong said, intending to mock her.

“An elephant?” Jineul raised her eyebrows, recalling the form of the animal. “Are you likening me to a big built animal?”

Rika quickly appeared to prevent Jineul from hurting the rich boy. “An elephant seems big, but they have a soft and sensitive heart,” she recalled one of Jangjun’s lessons. “Perhaps he is referring to your sensitive demeanor.”

“I possess none of those!” Jineul retorted.

“Indeed. She’d be an elephant demon,” Sungjong agreed.

“At least, the two of you managed to find a common ground.” Rika winked and quickly strolled away before she became victim of Jineul’s death grip. Jineul swore not to harm females, but many times, Rika tempted the girl to break her own oath.

As she ran away, her eyes caught the sight of her subject staring at the incomplete portrait of himself. How foolish! She had forgotten to finish the painting in the midst of the commotion. She tettered to Myungsoo, not knowing Jangjun kept a close watch.

“Uhm.. Sir…” Rika began, standing behind the judge. She contemplated her apology, wondering if she should compromise through another attempt using the medium she was familiar to.

“What is your name?” Myungsoo suddenly asked, his back still facing her.

“It’s Rika, sir.”

“How long have you mastered this skill?”

“I am not quite adept at it, sir. But I have been sketching shortly after mother... I mean, Miss Hyunmi found me.”

“Sketching? What about painting?” He asked, his tone scrutinizing.

Rika squeezed her eyes, afraid of giving the wrong answers. “Truth be told, this was my first experience painting. I am more familiar with pencil and paper.”

“Truly?” Myungsoo asked, turning around to meet her eyes. Against the sun bursting through the window glass, an illuminating halo wrapped over his being, resembling a heavenly creature descended on earth to attract people’s wonder over his beauty.

“Y-yes,” she stammered, unable to take her eyes off of him.

“Surely I must see those abilities for myself!” Myungsoo stood before her. He had the friendliest smile on his face, no longer staring at her for the filthy child the world regarded her as.

“Excuse me, sir?”

“I can see you are not accustomed to the canvas. Your drawing is a little sloppy and the colors are unbalanced on more than one part.”

“My deepest apologies,” Rika bowed her head, almost wanting to cry at her failure.

“However,” Myungsoo continued, a word bearing qualities of hope and salvation. He waited for her to meet his eyes before proceeding, smiling. “I see the potential Mr. Woohyun spoke of. Through constant practice, you may master this particular medium of art.”

“Thank you, sir!”

“I suppose Miss Jang has no such access at her house, does she?” Myungsoo hummed to himself.

“No, sir.”

“Well, what else can I do? I wish to hone those skills of yours to see the completion of this portrait. I was promised one, and you haven't delivered it today.” Myungsoo came nearer, chuckling when he saw the red paint smudged on her cheek. He gently brushed the paint away using his thumb.

“Rika, I wish to employ you.”

Before Rika voiced out a reply, Jangjun had already shouted from across the room. “What? You are asking her to leave our house!” He stormed at Myungsoo, creating distance between the wealthy man and the woman of his heart.

“Yes, that is my proposal. I shall need your guardian's consent, of course. However, assuming they want the best future for you, Miss Jang and Mr. Woohyun can’t possibly deny this offer,” Myungsoo spoke calmly, too jolly to notice the disapproving look on Jangjun’s face.

“What about Joochan? Will you employ him too?” Rika asked.

“Splendid idea! He may come here whenever I please, but for you, dear Rika, I wish for you to stay.”

“This is ridiculous!” Jangjun muttered.

“If she masters her skills in this area, she’d truly be rich,” Myungsoo said. He saw Woohyun and Hyunmi approach and excused himself, needing to relay his plans to them.

Jangjun twirled Rika towards him, hands placed on her shoulders. Her cheeks were a beautiful color of rose petals, but he doubted being the cause of it. “Rika, you can’t possibly consider this. He is a rich man. They are liars”

“You can’t show such biased opinions. We can see Mr. Nam is different, and even mother betrays her own heart by agreeing. Mr. Kim is speaking the truth—I could become a better artist.”

“You can’t know your future for certain. He may speak sweet honeyed words now, but you may suffer,” Jangjun spoke, hating how bitter the words tasted on his tongue. He was supposed to be her greatest supporter, yet placed his selfish needs above hers to demand her stay.

“I may also experience the bliss of success. Oh, Jangjun, aren’t you curious? If I leave the house, I might become the first female artist known to the world,” Rika said.

“If you leave the house, you might lose us.” The desperation clawed against his throat.

 _I might lose you_ , he truly wanted to say. But Jangjun knew her better than anyone. When the seeds of her dream finally had a chance to bloom into the beautiful tree it was meant to be, nothing could stop her, including him. Clearly, they had only been friends, and Rika may not feel the same fear about losing him. Who was he to let his selfish affection decide for her?

“This is my only chance, Jangjun. If I don’t seize this opportunity now, it may never cross my path ever again,” Rika said, speaking words which Jangjun had already predicted to hear from her.

He clenched his fist, allowing his own anger and disappointment to take over. He wasn’t angry at her, but at himself. Wishing he had been as rich as Mr. Kim so he could’ve provided her the means to reach her dreams. It should’ve been him; not some wealthy stranger.

“Suit yourself,” he finally retorted, uninterested to partake in their discussion. He would not help her make a champion out of the wealthy judge.

“Poor boy, is this the end to his endless love pursuit?” Woohyun soliloquised as Jangjun strode past them.

“Not quite, Mr. Nam. I suspect it is only beginning,” Joochan spoke melancholically, and Woohyun could hear the poignant resonance of his usual guitar playing in his head.

“We are most grateful to you and your wife for your hospitality as well as your proposal. Let us return and come to an agreement before giving you a definitive answer,” Hyunmi concluded to the rich man. She gathered the children through a mere flicking motion of her hand, and they obeyed by circling around her.

“Certainly. I’m looking forward to hearing a favorable outcome,” Myungsoo spoke, nodding to Rika in particular. “I hope to see you again.”

The girl blushed immediately, unable to contain the smile from stretching wider. “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

The rest exchanged small glances with each other, then subtly turned their head towards Jangjun who was engulfed in mournful silence. Poor boy felt the agony of a broken heart at such a young age.

“Foolish idiot. You have no right to drown in your dejection if you have never even attempted to confess to her,” Jineul spoke, for once, sounding wise with only a single use of a profanity.

Jangjun grunted. The entire house officially knew of his affections, except for Rika herself. “Do you know the meaning of fear, Jineul? If you had experienced it, you would understand the reason for my reluctance and hesitation.”

“Do you truly regard yourself that highly, damned boy? The fear I have experienced is far more sinister than what you could ever imagine. I have suffered through numerous tortures, was bound to ropes, and was depleted of hope of survival. Fear caught up with me every time, and I learn to coexist with it.”

Jangjun’s mouth fell open, forgetting her dark history. “Does it still chase after you?”

“Nay. I have escaped from it. Mother and the others rescued me. But I predict that one day, my fear may find me once more. By that time, I doubt I’d be able to escape it.”

The two thought the conversation was kept for themselves, but Woohyun made an excellent eavesdropper. He acted nonchalant enough, never giving himself away as he cautiously listened along.

“What is this fear you are speaking of?”

“A man more fearsome than the devil himself. He keeps me awake at night, and makes me wish I was asleep at day. I suspect he ain’t human, for no human could ever be as gruesome and heartless as him,” Jineul answered. Her face stiffened and her body shuddered at the memories.

“You are out of that vile place, and therefore, away from the devil!” Jangjun concluded, momentarily forgetting his own dilemma when he focused on hers.

Jineul pressed her lips together, wanting to nod in agreement, but losing conviction. No matter where she tried to hid, the devil always lurked around her safe haven, ready for another capture.

Woohyun wondered whom this gruesome person was, hoping not to gain an answer to his curiosity. As he opened the door, an unexpected figure was about to enter. A small gasp sounded behind him like a small whimper. Jineul grew incredibly pale, her forehead drenched with cold beads, and her eyes widened in fear of seeing a ghost. She took shelter behind Jangjun, her trembling fingers wrapping between his attire. Fear found her.

“The devil…” she whimpered, fragile and weak.

Woohyun’s eyes widened, his heart racing in panic. He turned to the door. It couldn’t be.

It was Kim Sunggyu.


	15. Parting

Being acquainted for a lifetime does not guarantee knowledge over a person’s true character. Woohyun regarded Sunggyu as a mentor, a role model, and a figure he desired to be. In the split moment of a second, whereby time elongated his doubts and disbelief, everything shattered.

Sunggyu’s eyes flashed a brief look of malice, one that penetrated the poor souls of the austere in a degrading manner. It conformed to whatever derision was formed of him. The usual friendly demeanor made a fast return, but not swift enough to erase one’s skepticism.

Such were the observations Woohyun had obtained before they headed to the coach. He wished to direct the question to his friend, yet dismissed his intention. His heart hadn’t prepare itself for a harsh truth.

Jineul remained unusually quiet, her eyes hollow and distant as she peered at the wooden floor of the coach. Her body shivered, causing the hair on her skin to jolt upward. Hyunmi wrapped a blanket around her, but her good intention could not fend off Jineul’s needs. It was not the cold weather that disturbed her, but the appearance of the devil.

“Poor Mr. Nam, your gullible beliefs has taken a toll on you,” Hyunmi soliloquised a whisper against Woohyun’s ears. Her words were carefully selected with the intention to chide him for befriending a monster.

“Gullible beliefs?” He raised an eyebrow. Never had he considered himself to be gullible. The fact that she—the subject of his beguiling compliments—would regard him in such manner had been unexpected.

“Why should a look of surprise embellish your face? Have you pertained no knowledge of the deplorable manners he operates his businesses with? It must be quelled,” Hyunmi spoke, stubbornly making her strong opinion known. She had always despised Sunggyu, but knowing he caused Jineul to succumb to a mental defeat set a new benchmark for her hatred.

Woohyun recalled his past memories, remembering the moments when he had been excluded from their meetings and discussions. He always deemed himself unworthy to their agenda, oblivious to the fact they measured his worth though the rare benevolence he possessed. What sorts of debauchery was spoken during their clandestine gatherings? What details had he been abstained from?

“Your speech resembles the wisdom of a person whose awareness ventured for decades,” he veered at her.

“We may be robbed of our wealth, but we retain our intelligence,” Hyunmi spoke with a faint sneer, declaring their superiority against the upper class. Only an immense loathing could gauge her sudden arrogance.

How could he have forgotten? She declared herself to be a blue collar woman who valued wisdom above all else. She had seen her share of injustice, heard immoral tales being whispered through the crack of the walls, and met people who were runaway victims from such festered behavior. She had shown him mercy despite the crimes committed by his fellow aristocrats.

“Share with me your knowledge; you musn’t keep it to yourself. Do not spare the harsh details. I wish to hear them all.” His eyes peered through hers, an intensifying gaze that could be interpreted as both passion or anger. Had they not been discussing a grim topic, he might have threaded their hands together, brought his face closer, and observed the exact shade of chocolate in her eyes. But such was not the case.

“The average upperclass men run illegal businesses at night, cleverly disguising it as a regular enterprise by day. Considering Mr. Kim’s status as a famed tycoon, I presumed his ownership of such businesses.”

“You form your opinion based on your personal prejudice,” he spoke, stating a fact rather than questioning. The tone languished itself in disbelief, coming across as a faint accusation.

“Indeed. Most of the time, my assumptions prove to be truthful,” she said, watching the sternness he regarded her with. She flinched, biting her lips, and his eyes transfixed itself to that subtle movements. “At other times, the weight of my assumptions work against me, and my heart is more than eager to accept correction.”

A reluctant smile broke out on Woohyun’s face, knowing she spoke of him. Had they not been talking about the malign enterprises, he would have steered the conversation in pursuit of her opinion of him. She had mentioned her opinion had changed, and he wished her quite liking for him morphed into something more effervescent.

“Do these operation affect the life of the innocent?” He asked instead, a question worth more pursuing at this critical moment.

“Hah! He is the devil himself! He finds pleasure in mauling the innocent. The male are shown leniency, but the female are treated no different from caged beasts, forced to perform sexual favors in exchange for their lives,” Jineul spat out. Her fingers squeezed the blanket around her to the point her knuckles had gone white. She trembled, infuriated at the knowledge she was cursed to attain.

Everyone stared with disgust, not at her or what she was forced to become, but at the existence of such ill behaviors in their flawed society. No living creatures should be forced to such labor.

“Did he recognize you?” Hyunmi then questioned, making the connections that could place their situation in grave danger. Saving Jineul was a direct opposition to the law; they had stolen a worker from her workplace. Sunggyu could sue them—could ask for their house as an amendment.

“Why would Mr. Kim recognize…” Jangjun trailed off, noting the tense atmosphere he provoked. None had been told the tale of Jineul’s origin, and seeing the grim expression on Rika and Joochan’s face, it seemed they had reached to the same conclusion that was better kept hidden.

“That devil owns numerous places, but commands his pathetic followers to do his dirty deeds. He oversees all, but does not know the details. Sometimes he visits the orphanage, and selects the ones he wishes to buy,” Jineul spoke, choking on her own saliva as these dreadful words escaped her lips.

“Is that allowed?” Rika interrupted, face blanched from disbelief.

“What use is the law when people trust their prejudice over written rules? Children are sold to become slaves, which the orphanage allows in order to obtain funds to raise more children,” Jineul continued, the words bitter at her tongue.

The disgusting act became a vicious cycle that would always repeat itself. Children were sold off to nurture more children whose future had already been foretold. To think that the ones in authority—the judges and the law enforces—allowed such actions to happen sickened them to their core.

“How do you know all of this?” Jangjun carefully asked.

Jineul’s eyes twitched and casted a deadly glare at the floor again. Her hands folded into a fist, digging her nails into her own skin. Her body began trembling, invaded by anger and fear.

Woohyun understood immediately; she was one of them.

“From here on out, you are under our protection. Anyone who tries to lay a finger on you shall face a great punishment,” he said, meaning every words he uttered. His mind needed time to adjust itself to these gruesome details. After all, Kim Sunggyu had been one of his closest friends; an odd friendship formed on the basis of needing each other. It was mutually beneficial, but beseeched a one sided genuinity.

“Your words don’t comfort me! Those wretched beasts are more powerful than any of us can ever become. We can’t change things. We are doomed for failure,” Jineul spoke harshly.

“Mayhap, living under different circumstances could instigate a change,” Rika suddenly voiced, carefully gathering their piqued attention. “Mr. Myungsoo intends to train me into becoming a well famed female artist. I could start a change.”

She thought her suggestion was brilliant, but their meek expression believed she had been naive. Jangjun would usually defend and support her, but she dared not look to his direction.

“The world does not operate in that jolly make-belief delusions you cloud yourself with,” Jangjun sneered. He hated these words and hated lowering her morale. He could see it in her dejected pout and her slouched down shoulders. How he wished to beg for her forgiveness instead, and also tell her he loved her.

“The outcome may be uncertain, but doing nothing guarantees complacency. Complacency is an excuse to be lazy,” Hyunmi said strictly, turning to Rika to speak of this matter. “Will you accept Mr. Kim’s offer and stay at his residence?”

“Yes!” She said eagerly, throdding her head with such excitement as if she had just learned the meaning of true bliss. “I assume he had asked your permission.”

“Both our permission,” Woohyun corrected, tapping his chin. “I wonder why mine was required.”

“Why, you are as a father to me as Hyunmi is a mother,” Rika said teasingly, staring at Hyunmi whose face flushed a little at her words. “What is required of me? When do I leave?”

“As soon as possible. Mr. Myungsoo is very eager to start your training,” Woohyun spoke, oblivious to Rika’s speech. He had a gullible side, indeed.

“So tonight will be her last night with us,” Joochan concluded with realization, eyes swiftly moving to the other boy.

“We must forget the sombre reality and celebrate tonight,” Jineul said, shooting her arms in the air as the blanket slid off her shoulder. For a moment, she could pretend to live a normal life, to know no devil, and to celebrate with the family she never had.

As Rika’s laughter drowned among the others, Jangjun was the only one looking away in silence.

***

The news was relayed to the rest and they exhorted in extravagant cheers. Small achievements were worthy of jubilant celebration; this accomplishment redefined hope among their despair.

“Woohyun cook!” Dongwoo eagerly requested. He took an instant liking to Woohyun’s culinary skills, denying anyone else who tried to change his favoritism.

“Oh, yes! I wish to taste that wonder soup again!” Donghyun clapped his hand, jumping up and down in excitement.

“Why, you have given the nameless dish a name. How brilliant! For that reason, I must award you the largest bowl,” Woohyun played along, smiling as he caressed the little boy’s head.

“I could help you prepare it!” Donghyun repeated, even more excited when his ideas were being well received.

“Me too! Me too!” Dongwoo volunteered himself.

“Yet another splendid idea! What would I do without you both?” Woohyun asked. He took Donghyun’s hands in his and went to the kitchen. He caught Hyunmi staring at him with a look he had not expected, one of ardor. It tugged the strings of his heart, beckoning him to dwell longer in that gaze. However, Dongwoo and Donghyun pulled him away to other obligations. He would have to keep the visual in his mind for now.

The thought of joining them in the kitchen had crossed her mind, but Hyunmi dismissed those thoughts. He was not to be trusted. He was charming. He was the thorns of a rose and not one to pursue. Her mind knew facts her heart refused to obey. Therefore, she excused herself and went upstairs to pack Rika’s things.

“Must you really go? Without you, mother is the only other female, but Mr. Nam always embezzles her time. I’d be all alone!” Jineul said out loud, wailing as she held unto Rika’s arms, ignoring Youngtaek’s disapproving grunts.

“Oh, hush! Their affection is not one we can prevent. You have befriended the others and I saw you open up about your past to Jangjun,” Rika said with a blazing smile.

Jangjun frowned, feeling slight disappointment. The absence of any jealousy proved he had no place in Rika’s heart—unlike him, whose heart was entirely occupied by her.

“Rest assured, Jineul. We are tamed,” Daeyeol jested. “Do look out for Youngtaek, though. He is a different case.”

“I would hurt anyone who harms my family. Rika, if those two rich bastards don’t treat you well, you must alert me and I assure you shall never see them again!” Youngtaek huffed a threat which was supposed to sound assuring.

Rika laughed. “Do you intend to annihilate them?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. I do not allow harm to fall upon any of you!” Youngtaek lifted his chest, glomping with beaming pride.

“Mr. Lee’s may see the verge of his existence had you come along today,” Joochan mused, having reunited with his beloved guitar as he picked up a fast rhythm to accompany his tale.

“Mr. Lee Sungyeol?” Daeyeol remembered the man whose path they crossed. There was something memorable about him though Daeyeol could not quite grasp his fingers on him. His presence brought an odd omen.

“What happened?” Sungyoon asked.

“He insulted mother and likened her to a prostitute,” Joochan whispered, melancholically shaking his head.

“What?” Youngtaek was completely enraged, his fist smashing an ill fated pillow.

“Jineul saved the day. She pounded him to the ground and landed several punches on his face.” Joochan continued, the guitar’s tune intensifying. He may seem calm and serene, but the smirk betrayed his support for Jineul’s violence, just this once.

“You are a hero! I would’ve joined you if I were there,” Youngtaek said, a little too eager when the adrenaline rush pounded.

“We could’ve tortured him in five different ways,” Jineul said.

“Ten!”

“Twenty!”

Rika laughed, swaying her hands to calm their excitement. “That room shall be my new workspace. I would prefer if the carpet was abstained from any blood marks.”

“We should focus on Rika’s success and cease this crazy talk,” Daeyeol reminded them.

“We are seizing the opportunity now that mother isn’t here,” Sungyoon grinned deviously, wishing to hear more. But he stopped, sitting upright to inhale the coriander powder infused with the mild vegetable smell diluted in the air, triggering a familiar scent of heavenly goodness. “I believe our dinner is served.”

“Our final supper together,” Rika laughed, following the others to the dining room. She didn’t fail to notice, Jangjun had been unusually quiet, reluctant to meet her eyes.

Her smile fell.

***

“You fine children are not of age to indulge yourselves in wine. Therefore, let us cheer using a glass of water!” Woohyun sang, raising his glass after dinner.

A few whines instilled the air, mainly Youngtaek and Jineul’s. The others laughed and willingly joined the toast.

“May Rika become the first female artist known in town,” Woohyun spoke, giving her his best wishes.

Donghyun clicked his tongue, wiggling his tiny finger at him. “No, no, no. You must wish for something grand so that our grand God can work grand miracles.”

“Ah,” Woohyun hummed. Adult men tend to hate receiving correction, especially from those younger than him. But Woohyun showed no signs of such resentments, looking at Donghyun with fascination instead. “What should I have said?”

“May Rika become the first female artist known in the entire world!” Donghyun spoke, spreading his small arms to gesture the vastness of the globe, even tiptoeing to reach a higher amplitude.

“I shall cheer to that!” Daeyeol raised his own glass. “May Rika sell her painting to rich aristocrats and start wearing thousands of golden chains around her neck like the upper class women do.”

“You musn’t forget the ridiculous powder they coat their face with,” Sungyoon added.

“Be rich! Buy cows!” Dongwoo randomly added. For everyone’s amusement, he displayed an encore performance of his best cow imitation. Everyone roared in laughter when Dongwoo protruded his lips out and began to “moo.”

Rika laughed the loudest; laughing until tears appeared, laughing until those tears turned into cries. Realization finally hit her. Pursuing a new goal required her to depart from her family. She was leaving them.

“Oh, Rika.” Hyunmi was the first wanting to comfort her. But Woohyun grabbed her hand beneath the table, shaking his head to refrain her from doing so.

Jangjun finally moved.

In unison, everyone left the two to a private audience and exited the room. This may be their final moment together.

“Am I making the right decision?” Rika asked. The tears collected at the side of her eyes and began cascading down her cheeks.

Jangjun stayed quiet, biting his lips. If he wanted to remain by her side, to wake up everyday to the sound of her laughter, to be content with their current relationship, he would selfishly affirm her foolishness. The world was harsh, and the rich too difficult of an audience to please. She wouldn’t succeed.

However, no one knew her as well as he did. Beyond her insecurities, she longed for her artwork to be seen by many. Mr. Myungsoo provided the means to attain her grand wish, and he couldn’t possibly obstruct her.

“I promised to remind you of your worth when judgements betray you. No one deserves this opportunity more than you. You possess the talent to instill a positive change through your art.”

Rika’s lips quivered, fresh tears washed over the wet frozen trails. Her fingers reached out to his sleeves, holding tight. “What if I will never see you again?” She did not know it was her greatest fear until the words rang in her own ears.

“That is the silliest scenario you could think of.” Jangjun laughed, a pleasant sound she would miss. He placed both hands over her cheeks, resting his lips on a smile. “Even if I were to die, I’d become a ghost and haunt you in order to allow you another glimpse of me.”

Rika laughed at that and softly slapped his chest with the back of her hand. Her tears became soft sobs and small hiccups now. “Please do not let yourself get killed during my absence.”

“As long as I do not provoke Youngtaek or Jineul, I assume my safety.”

Rika smiled. Truthfully, she could hardly predict her return to visit them. Residing at the Kim mansion equaled a lifetime employment. Perhaps she should have reconsidered the offer and contemplated her decision. Then again, a grand wish required a leap of faith, not one’s readiness to act. She would never be ready, therefore she agreed.

“I will miss you,” she whispered, wiggling herself into his arms for a final embrace. As seconds counted down their moments together, she memorized the way she fit into his arms, the way her head reached the tip below his nose, and the gentle manner he caressed her back with. She memorized everything there was about him, because soon, all she had left of him were her memories.

Jangjun’s lips remained a straight line, battling the greatest enigma. He wished to reciprocate those words, but knew he’d be unable to withhold his own tears upon the parting of his lips. He wanted to confess his feelings, but knew it would falter her determination.

For Rika’s sake, he allowed those three powerful words to be buried inside the depths of his heart, right beside his tears.

Jangjun would send her off with a gladful heart.

***

The sullen mood lingered even after the children had gone to bed. Hyunmi resumed her duty to clean their meals, which of course Woohyun volunteered to join her with. At this point, he would come up with clever excuses and convincing reasonings to stay with her. Such was the use of his beguiling wit.

“My heart cries for Jangjun. In the end, he has to part with the girl he fancies,” Woohyun lamented, stacking the dry plates into a neat pile. “To think that soon, it will be me.”

Hyunmi dropped the utensils from her hand, clattering noisily against the basin. She turned to him in a swift motion, her face struck with horror. “Are you leaving?”

Woohyun did not expect her to show such a strong reaction and could not resist the urge to tease. “Are you opposed to the idea?” His lips settled on a bittersweet smile despite his intention. The idea must have unsettled himself as well.

She bit her lips on the single reply she refused to amuse him with. During their early days, this temporary tenant arrogantly predicted she would beckon him to stay, which became a subtle foreshadowing of their current fate. However, he had a mansion to return to; why should he remain in this humbled country house?

“When will you leave?” She asked instead.

Woohyun shrugged, turning to face her. She tried to look indifferent, but the small pout of her lips and the moving pupils that rested on anything but him, gave away her true emotions.

“Do you wish for me to stay?” He asked, lowering his voice as he realized they had thrown each other more questions instead of answers. A sudden yearning invaded him, and he positioned himself closer. His hand mindlessly began caressing the side of her arm, and she flinched at the gesture.

“Tell me to stay, and I’ll stay,” his warm breath pressed against her lips, agonizingly close, instilling various ideas of a kiss.

“On what basis should I make such claims?” She looked up to meet his eyes, defeating him in his own trick.

Woohyun grinned, inching closer to the point their bodies pressed together. His fingers now trailed her long ebony hair, softly tucking it behind her ear. “The basis that your heart shall yearn for me during my absence.”

This made her chuckle. “My, you speak with such confidence, Mr. Nam.”

She did not move away as he rested his hand against her cheek and brushed it using his thumb. She welcomed his touch, prompting him to lift her face toward him.

“I am merely hoping my words will bring forth truth the more I speak it. You told me your opinions of me have changed. Tell me, have they changed for the better or for worse?”

His voice was a sweet lullaby to her ears, leading her eyes to slowly fall on his lips. She hitched a breath. “If you stay long enough, you may discover the answer yourself.”

“Ah, a woman who challenges me. Is this the manner with which you plea for me to remain here? You make it impossible for me to resist you,” he confessed.

The words made her heart thunder with frantic rampage. He was an eloquent speaker, and she genuinely wanted to believe those words. A pool of desire pitted inside her stomach, shutting her eyes as his touch sent electric tingles throughout her body. She indulged in this forbidden feeling, knowing full well their relationship would be rejected by the society. It would harm Woohyun’s status and worth as a rich man, making him no different from a fallen angel whose chance at redemption had long been taken.

“You have a family and house awaiting your return,” she said, nearly choking on her own words. The truth tasted bitter on her lips.

Woohyun exhaled a small sigh, pressing his forehead against hers in defeat. “I may have a house, but I consider this place my home. Family is where my heart resides, and my heart resides with you.”

His words invited the flutters in her heart, and she would strip herself of all reasonings to plunge herself against him. She dared herself to look at him, to watch his lips pronounce the beautiful confession that pierced her heart with longing. It may be wrong, it may be selfish, but a person could hardly obey every rule in existence.

Right then, a sudden clang resonated from the hallway. The two looked up in surprise, averting their eyes to the culprit. Donghyun and Rika stood there with wide eyes, staring deliriously at the scene in front. A small silver object rolled on the floor before them.

“Oh, Donghyun! Why must you drop it now? They were about to kiss!” Rika retorted, laughing a little.

“I accidentally dropped it in anticipation,” Donghyun defended himself.

Woohyun chuckled, seeing the eagerness in their eyes. “You children should be in bed. What brings you down here?” He asked, resuming a tone of authority.

“We wanted to spend time with mother for the last time before Rika leaves tomorrow,” Donghyun said, clenching his fingers in Rika’s.

“But first, you may consider us mere phantoms and proceed with your courtship,” Rika said, her lips tilting to a devious grin.

“I am afraid it is not something for your pure eyes to witness. You should return to bed, for we have a long day ahead,” Woohyun spoke. He turned to Hyunmi whose face was painted in soft pink, complimenting the color of her scarlett lips. It drew him in with a magnetizing pull, but in front of an audience, he restrained himself and leaned in to press his lips against her forehead instead.

“Goodnight,” he whispered softly, flashing her a smile before excusing himself.

The small move weakened her ability to exert any self control, and an exuberant smile pulled on both corners of her lips. She could hardly deny her affection for him, knowing by now, she would willingly accept his lies and make it her truth.

“I have always known you would eventually come to cherish him. My heart is anguished, knowing it won’t witness your blooming relationship,” Rika said woefully, then laughed.

“Oh, hush,” the elder one spoke, carrying Donghyun in her arms as they walked upstairs. The little boy fell asleep at once. “My heart is anguished on Jangjun’s behalf. You are shattering him to pieces.”

The playfulness disappeared from Rika’s face, morphing to an expression of pure solemness. “Pieces which can still be retrieved and mended together. He did not ask me to stay, therefore he must not mind it much,” she said.

“Sometimes loving someone means to let go; you can’t cage a bird knowing it has potential to soar higher beyond its limit,” Hyunmi said. Jangjun understood this. Rika’s mother understood this. Hyunmi understood this. They let her go because they loved her too much.

In the room, she sprawled Donghyun on the mattress they had already arranged. Then the two girl climbed on the bed above.

“He loves you, Rika. We all do. You must never doubt this,” Hyunmi said, embracing the younger girl.

“Will you come to visit?” Rika asked, a hopeful pull to her voice.

“If the circumstances allow me so,” Hyunmi said. “Now, be good there. Guard your heart from men. The wealthy are much more eloquent with their trained speeches and bear the ability to charm you.”

“Ah, as Mr. Nam has charmed you,” Rika teased, watching Hyunmi panic. How amusing to see her mother, who was gifted with the clever ability to counter any argument, succumb to an inability to speak at the subject of her own affections towards Woohyun. “He is a good man, and I would not approve you with any other man.”

“There are no other man,” Hyunmi laughed.

“Mr. Nam once told me: the rarest pearl can only be obtained through many tribulations and hardships. Mother, it isn’t a matter of how many men are competing for your affections, but how many are willing to endure your rejections. He has much to risk choosing you, and yet, he chose you. For that reason, I think of him as a good man.”

A fleeting smile crossed over Hyunmi’s face, realizing her heart fluttered at the thought of him alone. It was a new type of doom she had not prepared herself for. “Oh, how I shall miss you, Rika.”

“I will miss you, too.”

The two of them embraced one another, and tears joined their lonely union. Their playful teasings and wise words were effective distractions, but none could remove the pain in their heart. There were many things left unspoken, but their silent sobs and hushes cries communicated the words they failed to utter. Distance may separate them, but their heart would remain closely bound together.

Always.


	16. Truth

The saying rang true; it took one’s absence to realize the significant impact the person had on others. Rika’s gallivanting departure took along her idyll hospitality that reached out to anyone in need of a good cheer. To forgo their heartache, they limited means of communication through exchanged epistles, delivered once a week. Three knocks on the door signaled the mailman’s arrival. This time, however, no mailman greeted at the door.

“I need to see Mr. Nam,” Sungjong said, curtly displaying a white envelope in his hand.

Jineul, the girl who eagerly answered the door in anticipation for Rika’s letter, crossed her arm, unimpressed. She neglected his request and stared him down with a scowl. “I see you have become your brother’s lackey. Suits you well.”

The neutral expression on Sungjong’s face faltered, overtaken by a sinister glare. “Shut it, harlot. My brother imperatively forced me to comply to his demands.”

“I have experienced far worse than your woeful grunts. Do you expect me to spare you some sympathy, damned zounderkite?” The corner of her lips tilted into a malign smirk, ready to verbally assault him.

“Shut your vile mouth! You don’t know my story.”

“Neither do I care to hear it.”

Sungjong gritted his teeth, wondering what trespass he had committed to deserve Jineul answering the door. To think he had reserved the slightest bit of concern to her well being was absurd. He refused to spare her any sympathy.

“My brother despises me,” he continued anyway. “I must earn his approval regardless of the situation and consequences. He can hurt me.”

This made her scoff louder, a direct mockery at his face. “Have you forgotten that I—a girl much smaller than your brother—managed to gift him a pain he won’t forget? I hope he is hurting terribly.”

Sungjong snorted in the most impolite manner, and had he been at home, someone would’ve reprimanded him for producing such a crude noise. “It was quite an amusing spectacle to behold,” he admitted.

“Perhaps you’d like an encore performance. I would be more than willing to lunge my fists on his face again.” Despite the sneer, her offer had actually been genuine. It was not her love for violence, but she truly detested the man.

“I have no willpower to reject you. However, I do need to deliver this letter to Mr. Nam,” Sungjong reminded, raising the epistle to her attention.

“You have perfectly functioning limbs to perform the task yourself. Do not bother me, dratted boy.” With that, she unfolded her arms and left the young man alone by the door as she disappeared into the living room.

Sungjong’s mouth hung agape, completely offended by her hostile behavior. He entered the house himself, cautious not to touch their germs induced items which could strip him off the luxurious lifestyle. He may not adore his brother, but his early years raised him with those words of wisdom.

“Mr. Sungjong, pleasure to see you here!” A sudden female voice greeted, much friendlier than Jineul’s, but possessing its own tinge of cunningness. Her statement was an eerie resemblance to Woohyun’s usual remarks in terms of cadence, prose, and word choices. Being in each other’s company for too long tend to liken them.

“Where is Mr. Woohyun? I need to deliver this letter to him,” Sungjong repeated, no longer raising the epistle as evidence.

Hyunmi’s smile remained, but her eyes scrutinized on the small envelope. “Did your brother send it?”

The young man did not miss the beat of resentment in her crystal clear voice, nearly disguised as one of curiosity. But he recognized that familiar tune, his brother tend to address him with it too. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to personally deliver this to him.”

Right that instant, the man in question strode toward them. “Jineul informed me of your presence. It took me a while to decipher whom she meant by ‘damned idiot,’ however, I soon realized you were the only person reserved for her affectionate name calling,” Woohyun sang.

“You have a twisted perception regarding affection,” Sungjong said, glaring at the man who chuckled at his misery. He handed the letter, deciding to summarize the contents to its recipient. “They demand to see you this evening at the usual spot.”

“So I read.” Woohyun’s eyes still skimmed over the words. Then he tugged the letter into the inner pocket of his blazer and turned to the wall clock. “Well, I better assemble myself for this meeting.”

Without saying a word to Hyunmi, he marches off upstairs. A part of her grew anxious, hoping those evildoers would not punish him for any act she was responsible for. What if they had known about Jineul?

“I must thank you for upholding your end of our promise,” Sungjong suddenly said, remembering the manner with which Hyunmi had beguiled Sungyeol with. “However, to save myself from the wrath of Mr. Woohyun, I kindly ask you to cease all endeavors.”

A small smile slipped on her face, soon morphed into a grim line. Hyunmi may not have accomplished a peace treaty between the two brothers, but obtained a horrifying fact instead. Sungyeol claimed Sungjong was not his family. She tried to bend the topic and slowly question him regarding the issue.

“The brooch you are wearing is an exquisite piece of art,” Hyunmi’s interest was piqued by the reappearance of the golden brooch he always embellished his vests with. The bright color reminded her of the rich golden rays of the sunrise she had watched with Woohyun at dawn. The memories heated her face with a sudden yearning.

“Do not seduce me. I am different from Mr. Woohyun and won’t succumb to your wicked way in the manner he did,” Sungjong said, immediately on guard.

“It it a requirement for the rich to possess arrogance? I have no interest in seducing you; do not mistake my kindness for interest,” she spoke, slightly cocking her head sideways with disapproval. If every wealthy man was made with arrogance, there was bliss to being poverty struck, after all.

“Your kindness does not come without a cost. What do you wish to exchange for it?” He asked her with scrutinizing eyes.

“The way you regard things with cautiousness is a good asset, Mr. Sungjong. However, do not always assume people’s benevolence for the worse, you’d only be stripping yourself off of God’s blessing.”

Sungjong did not know whether he detested Woohyun or Hyunmi more; both lectured him with wisdom beyond Sungyeol’s capabilities. He felt disgusted to crave their advices, but knew the act of correcting someone was an affectionate gesture. Perhaps, it was not wisdom itself he sought after, but the need for acknowledgement.

“It’s a family emblem,” he then continued to answer Hyunmi’s initial curiosity. Instead of beaming with pride, clouds and mist curtained his face. “It is designed for the Lee family. It can neither be bought nor be found in any market. This emblem represents our prestigious status.”

Hyunmi parted her lips to emit an acknowledging sound, nodding along to him. It would explain the exact same brooch being worn by Sungyeol. She could not fathom why Sungjong looked so depressed, as if the family name had been deplorable, and the prestigious status was a mere curse.

When footsteps resounded from the stairs, Hyunmi inwardly cursed herself for being enthralled by the brooch. Now she had no clue what to expect from the meeting or for Sungyeol’s claim.

“Shall we take our leave?” Woohyun hopped off the stairs, fashioning a long brown coat that extended to his knees. A long white scarf dangled on either side of his frame.

As Woohyun sank into his shoes, Hyunmi suddenly placed herself closely before him. The smell of lavender invaded his senses, igniting the rhythmical thudding in his heart. He obediently held still as she ran her fingers along the collar, downward along the trim, and carefully buttoned up the loose studs. She was oblivious to Woohyun’s nervousness when her arms reached out around his neck, looping the scarf to cover his exposed skin. The sight was so affectionate even Sungjong winced.

“The weather has gotten colder. I do not wish for you to get sick,” she said indifferently, avoiding the spark in his eyes and the stretch of his smile.

“You are worried about me,” he hummed, completely ecstatic, restraining himself from wanting to take her hand and press small kisses between her knuckles. The small caress of her fingers created a large upheaval in his heart. “Your concern lights up a fire within me that keeps me warm against the cold season.”

There was great effort for Hyunmi to restrain herself from smiling at his words. “A fire that does not fend the physical cold away. You can get sick.”

“Surely the lovely Miss Hyunmi will care for me then. You tempt me to roam around wearing nothing but Summer’s attire,” Woohyun teased with a dazzling grin.

She glared at him, tying an extra knot in his scarf to make him flinch uncomfortably. “You juxtapose my intention. I won’t nurse you if you fail to be responsible for your own health.”

“Truly? Why, I predict you shall be the first person at my side if calamity were to befall me.” Woohyun smiled, watching the contemplation settle on her face as she weighed his words. He leaned closer, drawing a faint blush from her. “Your benevolent way of caring for others has captured my heart, but your concern is better placed elsewhere. I assure you of my safety.”

Hyunmi let him stroke her cheek as he whispered those words. The warmth of his breath made her forgot the chilling weather outside, conjuring improper thoughts of the warmth her body would reciprocate if his lips trailed over hers instead. Realizing her thoughts, she quickly released herself from him and bid the two men a safe travel.

Sungjong rolled his eyes, wondering why the two tortured each other when they clearly cherished one another dearly. They may mask it through their denial, but everyone read the hard pressed desire between them. Now he, along with everyone else, would become victim to their coquettish exchanges.

***

On their journey towards the Iris Pub, Sungjong decided not to question Woohyun regarding his relationship with the residents of the orphanage. His association with them had been showcased from time to time, and Sungjong supposed Woohyun’s heart had shifted his allegiance.

Then again, staring at Woohyun’s empty expression now, devoid of any emotion, Sungjong hesitated forming any reckless opinions.

Sunggyu and Sungyeol were already inside, occupying the round table reserved for them. In fact, the deserted bar gave the impression that the entire area had been closed off under private reservation. Considering their wealth, that may have been the case.

Woohyun slipped a smile to his lips, greeting his partners as if the news of Sunggyu’s shady enterprises hadn’t reached him, as if Sungyeol and he never engaged in a fight for his effacing remark. He sat down at the table, ordering a drink for himself.

“What issues do we seek to discuss during today’s meeting?” Woohyun asked, leaning backwards to rest his arm behind Sungjong’s chair.

“I am certain you are aware of the consequences of your actions?” Sunggyu asked, his eyes hardened. “Mr. Sungyeol has informed me of your deeds. You lacked self control and assaulted him.”

Woohyun laughed, thanking the waiter for bringing him a glass of vodka. He swirled the glass in his hand, hearing the ice cubes collide against one another. “Allow me to question you instead. When a female has been mocked by a man of despicable nature, would she find more solace through a man who defends her using any means necessary, or a man who stands in negligence?”

Seeing the two men's silence, it was Sungjong who answered. “The former.”

“There you have it,” Woohyun concluded, lifting his glass to acknowledge their defeat. “I do apologize for ruining your face, Mr. Sungyeol, but it was hardly a real punch. If it managed to hurt you, the problem lies within your fragility, and not my strength. I hardly used any.”

Sungyeol folded his fist, gritting his teeth while bonking the table—an inanimate object he could obliterate as if it were an enemy. “Are you aware of liars being incinerated and tarnished in hell for all of eternity?”

“Ah, such were my concerns regarding your afterlife, indeed,” Woohyun spoke with feigned concern, lifting the glass to hide the smirk on his lips. If his eloquence did not form sweet venom, they directly poisoned his opponents through ignominious remarks.

“I am speaking about you! How dare you have the audacity to stride in here and lie to our faces?” Sungyeol yelled, pointing an accusing finger to the man who leisurely took another sip.

“Lie? In what ways have I deceived you? My task required me to gain their trust, and as far as I am concerned, I have outdone my previous performances. Even you, the man whose intelligence should have allowed you to discern the situation, deluded yourself with my make belief scenario.”

Sungyeol nearly destroyed the table with another hit, but Sunggyu halted him through the restraining order in his eyes. He rested his gaze on Woohyun, shackling him with an invisible fetter.

“I do not completely believe your verisimilitude, Mr. Woohyun,” Sunggyu said. “Miss Jang tells me she does not foster any attraction towards you.”

“Do you genuinely believe she was speaking the truth? I suppose I have thought too highly of you,” Woohyun said, making no effort to hide his sneer remarks. No longer would he follow Sunggyu like the obedient rich investor he once was. “She despises you, even wishes you were dead. Admitting her weakness in front of you would have been foolish, and she is no fool.”

“You sound quite confident in your beliefs,” Sunggyu remarked, his eyes sinking with amusement.

“Sungjong can attest for it. He bears accountability for it through his own eyes.”

It immediately became clear to Sungjong why he was included in this meeting. Woohyun needed a witness, and Sungjong had been one despite his knowledge.

“It is true. Miss Jang cares for Mr. Woohyun in a manner I could not foresight,” he admitted truthfully. Remembering their interaction prior to the meeting nearly made him gag, but now he tried to decipher Woohyun’s words. The man was notorious for being an excellent deceiver, but the true target of his treachery was the mystery in this case.

“You two could be scheming behind our back!” Sungyeol accused, throwing a dirty look to his little brother.

“And what benefit would I have gained from forming an alliance with a young scholar? If I were to rebel, surely I would’ve chosen a more reliable power source.” Woohyun did not miss a beat to respond, perfectly tackling every single one of their accusations with ease.

“As stated in our previous meeting, Miss Jang’s involvement is entirely inessential to our task. She has no influence in our deal,” Sunggyu reminded, narrowing his gaze at the ignorant froward. “Have you fallen for her?”

Woohyun smirked, returning his condemning gaze with equal fury and taunt. “Do you doubt my ability to separate personal feelings from work? I’d rather doubt the effectiveness of your plan. It is flawed in the long run.”

Sunggyu’s face remained apathetic, but he furtively clenched his fingers into a fist beneath the table.

“Dongwoo is too mentally unstable to think. Who do you suppose bears the ability to convince him of signing the contract when the time comes down to it?” Woohyun continued, grinning smugly as he motioned both partners to come closer, morphing his hushed whisper into a declaration amplified in their ears. “His sister.”

“If she has fallen for Mr. Woohyun, she would make the request of her brother on her own accord,” Sungjong made the connection, staring at the man beside him with revitalized fear and awestruck fascination. He had thought of Woohyun as a lovestruck fool, but his words managed to convince him otherwise. Had he truly deceived them all?

Finally, Sunggyu’s tension loosened up and he broke into a smile. It wasn’t of a friendly demeanor, containing an arrogance that blended with the rest of his dark features instead. “Mr. Nam, we have been acquainted for years. Do you take me for a fool to believe in your claims? For all I know, you could be spewing nonsense.”

Sungjong quickly looked over to Woohyun, seeing him sip from his Vodka without a flinch. Did his behavior attest to his lie or truth? Even Sungjong, who bore witness to those endearing exchanges, easily believed in Woohyun’s malign speech.

“Of course not, Mr. Sunggyu. Your long time involvement in this industry accumulated the ability to discern treachery,” Woohyun equivocated, his rigid face abstained from any panic. He appeared calm, too calm. “Therefore, I have prepared a proposal to prove my loyalty.”

Sunggyu’s face lit up with interest, showing a small crack resurface in his strong wall of defense. A good offer was his strength as much as it was his weakness. “Do tell.”

“Shin Jineul,” Woohyun uttered a name, unfamiliar to his partners at first, but by the flinch in Sungjong’s stiffened body, revealed her importance. “I am certain you are aware of a harlot’s recent disappearance from one of the population brothels.”

The usual calmness in Sunggyu’s expression made his eyes twitch, interested to hear about the bargain. “So I’ve heard.”

“I know her whereabouts,” Woohyun said. It was a simple statement that revealed truth to the case; his knowledge stemmed from the Jang siblings’ direct involvement. The harlot probably resided at the house, a knowledge allowing Sunggyu to file a dispute and put these criminals behind bar. Woohyun’s revelation proved he would not be against this brutal confiscation of their freedom.

“Aren’t you afraid I would hand them over to the law?” Sunggyu asked, examining his reaction.

“Your better judgement prevents you from doing so,” Woohyun said calmly, finishing the drink in one swift gulp. With a small sigh, he clunk the glass on the table, as loud and clear as his voice. “Your goal is a signed contract. If they wander aimlessly behind bars for the rest of their lives, the house could never be legally transferred to your possession.”

“What use is this revelation if I am restrained from reporting their crime?” Sunggyu continued pressing, needing that evidence of loyalty from his partner.

“It is a liability you may one day hold against them. Once you obtained the house, you may do us all a favor and rid the streets of these plebeians.”

This knowledge pleased Sunggyu. Woohyun showed his allegiance by his keen eagerness to destroy the household. The house was no longer the sole target; the entire life of the orphans had to plummet into a state of complete meltdown before the tycoon achieved true satisfaction.

“I must not prevent you from completing your task. Go and pamper yourself up to those poor souls,” Sunggyu said, swishing his hand to gesture the two guests away. “However.”

Woohyun halted in his track, waiting for the other elaborate.

“Should you try to deceive me, there will be dire consequences that will haunt you for the rest of your life,” Sunggyu reminded, saying the sinister words with a smile on his face. “Good day, gentlemen.”

As Sungjong strode after Woohyun outside, he examined the unreadable expression on his friend’s face. No amount of explanation could succumb to a sudden understanding for his juxtaposing actions.

“Why did you reveal the incidence?” Sungjong asked, realizing he was an active part taker of the crime. If Sunggyu reported it, even the prestigious status as a scholar would fail to redeem him.

“I’m offering a secret in exchange for his trust,” Woohyun said.

“He could report us and rip us of our freedom right this instant. Have you no concern at all, or have I overestimated your intelligence?” Sungjong began to panic, lashing out through heated accusations.

“Mr. Sunggyu knows better than to report it. Surrendering us to the law will affect his own modus operandi and lead to an investigation he can’t bribe his way out of.”

Only now did Sungjong catch the smirk slipping from Woohyun’s lips, once again leaving him to wonder at the semblance unfolding before him. When both the truth and lie mingled into one hefty breath, only its orator bore the ability to discern the two.

***

The house was enveloped by a hollowness Hyunmi couldn’t explain. The feeling may have stemmed due to Rika’s absence, but a small part of her refused to admit Woohyun had taken part in stirring this void. A day without his coquettish remark felt empty, as if she had forgotten what or whom she was living for. Nam Woohyun couldn’t possibly have such formidable potent on her, and in her state of denial, occupied herself with household duties.

“You here,” Dongwoo’s voice rang, stopping his sister from rummaging through several suitcases in the attic. Throughout the years, they had forgotten the significance of these treasures. Some were relics left by their parents, but none bore a memory they could associate with.

The ambush greeted a young Dongwoo and an infant Hyunmi who was hidden away. Hyunmi had no recollection of the dreadful night, but Dongwoo decided to shut off the foul part of history, only remembering faint images when his panicked attacks appeared. The dresses, plates, toys, and everything else in the suitcase felt like they belonged to another family instead.

“I was tidying some of Rika’s belongings, but ended up rummaging through the entire place,” Hyunmi said, dusting the outfits she stacked in a neat pile.

Dongwoo nodded courteously, folding his legs to sit down beside her. He retrieved some attire in the distance and handed it to his sister. Her thoughts seemed occupied, and Dongwoo inwardly counted down to the moment she would pour out her concerns. Five seconds in, and Dongwoo took on the role as an intent listener.

“Do you suppose they are treating Rika well? What if they make a servant out of her? Oh, I can’t possibly lament my concern out loud in fear of Jangjun hearing me. Maybe we should ask her to return.” Hyunmi rambled, stopping once Dongwoo rested his hand on her shoulder.

He grinned widely. “No regrets.”

The tension in her shoulder released, feeling the tranquility brought with his simple words. Rika chose this path for herself. If even Jangjun failed to stop her, no one could.

“Rich people nice. Like Woohyun. You love him?” Dongwoo suddenly continued his argument, staring his sister down with an impish grin. He anticipated having this conversation with her for a while, and their isolation in the attic deemed perfect.

“What?” Her eyes widened. She took longer strides to breathe. “I- I do not love him. You know his true intention, brother. I must not allow myself to get swayed by his sweet words. I-”

“You worry.” He made his next point by raising a random coat, holding it closely in front of him as he began to button it up. What a splendid reenactment of her morning spectacle.

“How would you have known when you weren’t there?” She yelled, hiding her flushed face behind her hands. The sound of her muffled scream lingered in the air alongside Dongwoo’s jolly laughter.

“I- I simply cannot afford him being sick. Imagine the countless demands he’ll request of me! I… I have a duty to care for the others too. It is for that reason I aided him with his carelessness.”

Dongwoo was surprised to see this new side to his sister. Despite having been with her since the day of her birth, some secrets and chambers were meant for Woohyun to unlock. Never had he expected her to relentlessly slur her words without a clear aim, talking only to convince herself of a statement they both knew was false.

“You worry now?” Dongwoo interrupted.

Hyunmi blinked her eyes. “Mr. Nam went to meet two men I loathe the most. I may have a change of opinion regarding Mr. Nam, but I wager on Mr. Kim and Mr. Lee’s ability to change. They target our house.”

Dongwoo chose to show them some undeserved clemency through his small shrug. The purity of his heart allowed others to take advantage of him. For this reason, he and Woohyun were quite akin. Their innocence triggered Hyunmi’s protective instincts.

“Mr. Kim Sunggyu is involved in numerous shady businesses. He owns a brothel,” Hyunmi began, leaving out the part regarding Jineul’s real identity and origin.

At the word brothel, Dongwoo’s smile began to fade. He may have the heart of an angel, but the indecent act failed to earn his approval.

“Mr. Lee Sungyeol admits to having no biological ties to his brother, and poor Mr. Sungjong is treated with less honor than a stable boy. The inhuman treatment attest to his claims, but what would their relationship pertain to? Mr. Sungjong wore the family jewelry which only the Lee’s are able to possess.”

“Jewelry?”

“I am certain you have scouted one. It is the golden brooch pierced at the left side of their blazer.” She motioned to her own dress to indicate its location.

“Oh! Bird!” Dongwoo remembered.

Hyunmi stood fazed, unable to recall the shape of the brooch aside from its golden color. Numerous skills compensated for Dongwoo’s lack of verbal abilities, including keen observational skills through all five senses. God had been fair; a skill made up for a flaw. None was truly flawed, and none was truly perfect.

“Yes, the golden brooch in the shape of a bird,” she confirmed, halting her movements as more thoughts invaded her mind with agony. “My heart breaks for the poor boy. His upbringing taught him to become spoiled as he is, but I believe he is a good man deep within.”

Sungjong became the vital key to Jineul’s escape. Without good conscience or moral principles, no words could’ve stirred his heart to act out on his own impulse.

“Woohyun good man,” Dongwoo suddenly declared, showing his biased favoritism towards the lad. Woohyun was different, and they were all aware of it.

The softness in his voice made Hyunmi bring her lips to a defeated smile. She thought of all the sweet nonsense Woohyun had told her, of the way he jumped at Sungyeol to defend her dignity, the manner he opened his arms when she sought him out for help, or the way he calmed her heart and stirred it into a raging storm all at the same time.

“He is a good man,” she whispered a tender resonance, the words no longer sounding like a mantra of conviction, but a statement she believed to be true. Beneath his arrogance and lack of understanding regarding the social disparity, Hyunmi believed he was a good man.

Dongwoo began to sneer, teasing her as he crept closer to relay the next set of words impossible to miss: “Woohyun my brother.”

It took several seconds for Hyunmi to make the connection; Dongwoo meant for Woohyun n to be his brother in law. Her entire face glowed with embarrassment. Unbelievable. She had always kept a regal composure in front of the children, but with Dongwoo, she would always be his little sister.

“Retract those thoughts from your head!” She yelled, getting up on her feet to start a chase. But Dongwoo was also granted great agility and dashed through the pile of clothes to make his great escape.

“Woohyun my brother,” he kept singing out loud, enjoying the blush eclipsing her face. His thunderous voice filled the quiet attic even as he disappeared downstairs.

Hyunmi returned to her previous task and tidied the outfits her brother had run through. Pairing her with Woohyun for a romantic involvement was a faux pas to the society. The disparity did not operate with such ease. Perhaps they’d end up hating one another, like the Lee’s.

Wait.

She had established the possibility of the two brothers not being biologically related, but perhaps Sungjong had come from an entirely different class. Perhaps he was an orphan fortunate enough to have been adopted by a wealthy family. Sungyeol sneered at her for raising orphans for bearing an eerie resemblance to his parents’ eleemosynary actions.

Why would his parents want to adopt a child? How many siblings did he have? Did Sungyeol treat them with equal contempt?

“Ah,” she grimaced in pain when something pricked her finger, forming a small trail of blood. She examined the object at fault, discovering a golden jewelry reflecting back at her. At its center was the detailed embellishment of a bird, engraved so beautifully one might expect it to fly away at a single touch. The familiar trinket was carved in a high class manner only a prestigious family could claim ownership over it. She had seen it before.

The Lee’s family brooch.

Her mind begun to spun with endless possibilities of its origin and how it came to settle inside the house. It was fastened to a red color vest of a young child’s attire, one that conjured bad memories in her mind. It belonged to the boy who waited on his parents’ promise, realizing he had been abandoned into the slumps of society. The boy whose life had been filled with hope, only to experience heartache at such a tender age. The boy who was only seven that time, grew up into an astounding young man no longer rich and no longer aching.

It belonged to Daeyeol.


	17. Prejudice

Numerous ideas and possibilities swarmed inside her head; some too absurd to comprehend, some too complacent to accept. Hyunmi may have obtained a shocking revelation that could favor her against the malicious Lee Sungyeol.

Without hesitation, she raptly grabbed the golden pin in her hand and strode outside to the stable located behind the house. Her clandestine escape was thwarted by an uninvited presence among the animals. Poor Jangjun soliloquised of his unrequited love to an audience of cows and horses. Hitherto, his sanity may depart him.

“Jangjun, I apologize for interrupting you, but I need Carrot. Could you mount him for me?”

Jangjun flinched at her stealthy entrance, noticing the rush in her voice. He moved to the brown stallion whose mane seemed nearly golden orange in the sunlight, and settled the saddle on top of it. “Are you visiting Rika?”

“Nay, I have other matters to take care of…” She trailed off, fabricating a last minute excuse. “We are out of spice.”

“Sungyoon can purchase it tomorrow morning.”

“We can prevent scarcity if I leave now.” She hurriedly hooked her foot against the stirrup to haul herself over the seat, taking the reins between her fingers to remain balanced.

“The clouds look gloomy. I am afraid it may rain soon,” Jangjun spoke, looking up at the sky. Big greyish clouds drifted around the house, clouding the sunshine through its mist.

“I will return before the sun sets.”

She nudged the horse to set pace, immediately starting off with a speedy gallop. Its hooves strode through the familiar road leading towards town, and Hyunmi hoped the two gentlemen would not cross her path.

For a woman who took comfort in planning, her action was reckless in comparison. Lee Sungyeol may still be at the Iris Pub, she may miss her chance at an encounter, he may not return home, and yet she steered Carrot towards Sungjong’s residence.

The humongous building soon appeared in her line of vision. It was as intimidating and unwelcoming as she remembered, akin to its owner. To the rich, its formidable size was considered small and humbled—twenty individual chambers was a puny number. Even as she hopped off the horse, the shadow of the house loomed over her small frame. If it meant to intimidate her, it pulsed her racing adrenaline rush instead.

The chances of encountering Sungyeol was nihil, but such were the chances when gambling. After endless minutes of waiting near the front door like a beggar, her emissary produced some results. She heard footsteps inching closer with each click of the heel, immediately getting up on her feet to give a small mocking curtsy.

“Miss Jang.” Sungyeol made a statement of recognition rather than one of inquiry. The shock on his face morphed into an unwelcoming stare. “How do you know my place of residence?”

“It would be better to inquire the reason of my visitation,” she told him, slowly marching toward him, her dress falling heavy unto the stony path.

Sungyeol narrowed his eyes at her, disliking her retaliating attitude. Unlike other females of her class, she showed him little respect and could not be threatened into submission. “Why are you here?”

She lifted her face to him, studying his towering height that was a faint resemblance to Daeyeol’s. This was not enough evidence to back her theory. “Your confession chimes in my head, and I wish to gain answers for my curiosity. Why do you deny Sungjong from your family?”

“You must have forgotten I detest you. Even if I were at a position to offer my assistance, I would choose not to.” Sungyeol smiled crudely when the glint in her eyes faded. He mistook it for defeat, not knowing it surged more determination instead.

“Is he adopted?”

“If he were, would it satisfy your curiosity?” Sungyeol asked with a vehement tone of displease.

Hyunmi stubbornly placed herself before him, blocking his path. She retrieved the golden brooch from her pocket and exhibited the familiar jewelry to him. The golden bird at the center brimmed with pride, its tiny wings spread out like a majestic phoenix. Such was the illusion created by the robin.

Sungyeol’s eyes widened as he registered the object. He reached out to the brooch, having only traced the bird with a gentle brush before Hyunmi retracted it from him.

“Where did you obtain it?” He asked.

“In my attic. Strange isn’t it?” Hyunmi hummed, exaggerated her pondering. She watched the calculations written on his face, connecting dots of her stories to form the overall big picture. He let out a small gasp when realization hit him.

“You know whom it belongs to.” He controlled his level of curiosity, regarding her in the same manner a predator eyed its prey. He did not think he could averse her any more than this, but her obstinate attitude irked him.

“It is a knowledge I’d be willing to share in order to quench your curiosity,” a devious smile spread over her lips. She studied his expression, seeing the wrinkle between his eyebrows and a small twitch to his lips. He was trapped.

“What do you want in exchange for this information?” Sungyeol gritted his teeth, smart enough to know it wouldn’t come at no cost.

“Forfeit your claims on my house, and I shall put up a good word for you,” she suggested, tucking the brooch back into her pocket.

Sungyeol blinked his eyes before he burst out in laughter, his narrow shoulders bouncing along to his flounced movements. “I expected something more terrifying than your foolish proposal. I object.”

Of course, Hyunmi accounted the failure in her plan, preparing to launch her second enfilade. “Why have you chosen to abandon the young boy? Is he a bastard son?”

Sungyeol flinched at her harsh accusations, his expression seeming almost hopeless, an expression that convinced her of the faraway truth she had yet to obtain.

“You better keep your mouth shut when you know nothing of our family matters.”

“Then, enlighten me,” she countered. “Should you choose to refuse, as I suspect you will, you must be prepared for a legal investigation.”

“What?”

“Child abuse is a criminal offence, Mr. Lee. By abandoning a boy, you have made his mind susceptible to feelings of insecurity. Mr. Sungjong may be exempted from jail considering his adoption,” she said, having thorough knowledge of the topic. “Does Sungjong know of his unfortunate status?”

“That is none of your concern! You may threaten all you want, but the bluff is written on your face. How will you persuade the private investigators to track down the past when you have no money to pay them with?”

Hyunmi smiled at him, showing no hints of panic. She had thought of several possibilities during her journey, and tackling Sungyeol’s refusal had been first on her list. “I have Mr. Nam.”

Again, it made Sungyeol laugh with an incredulous chilling shriek. “Do you suppose he loves you to the extend of lending his money for some stupid case?”

“I do not make deals using sympathizing methods. In the same manner I have something of interest to you, I have my own means of getting him to act for me.” Now she was bluffing, but her earlier denial seemed to dismiss the idea from Sungyeol's mind.

Darkness fleeted over Sungyeol’s face who for once believed he might have a chance at failure. He gritted his teeth, feeling the itch in his fist as the last bit of thinning patience restrained him.

“Sungjong was adopted to fill the absence of my missing brother,” he uttered through his gritted teeth. The statement was as soft and delicate as the dandelions within a storm, but crashed against her like the ocean waves hitting a rocky shore.

This set the entire case in a new perspective.

***

The time the horse strode back to its stable, Hyunmi had not expected to find Woohyun there. He looked up from the horse he was petting, a warm smile accompanying the anticipating glint in his eyes.

“Jangjun informed me of your impromptu trip,” his eyes absorbing the horse’s saddle. “It seems you have failed to accomplish what was meant to be your initial reason for going.”

The sneer remark awoke Hyunmi’s realization of her faux pas. She told Jangjun of her intention to refill the supply of spices only to return empty handed. “By the time I arrived, the store was closed,” she calmly replied.

Woohyun carefully watched her response, realizing her unintentional expertise at deception. Had he not known any better, he would take her words for what they were. The biggest trespass of her mistake was her calm demeanor, a sight too well practiced to be natural.

“Why have you chosen the animals as your company?” Hyunmi asked without looking at him. She led Carrot back to its own stable and swung her foot over the horse.

“I got lonely awaiting your return. These animals make excellent conversationalists,” Woohyun humored, extending a hand to her.

The absurdity of his answer made her laugh in a way she was no longer ashamed of, unable to deny the amusement he gifted her with. A familiar thud appeared in her heart when she placed her fingers within his open palm. Woohyun’s protective arm hovered before her when she jumped off the horse, ready to catch her if she were to fall.

“What remarkable tales have they entertained you with?” She played along to his fable.

“Well, the cows beseeched me to correct your beliefs. Similar to horses, they can be mounted.”

“Truly?” She questioned with a delirious chuckle. Her eyes trailed down toward their hands, realizing her fingers were still entwined in his. Being the only two people present, she found little reason to let go.

“They may be slower than a horse, but it does not make them any less effective. I suppose we should never allow the status quo to form prejudiced opinions against new possibilities,” Woohyun said, leading them out of the stable.

The weather had gotten gloomier from the time he left that morning. He was still wearing the white scarf around his neck, the exact same manner she had prepped him with. Almost as if he was afraid to lose traces of her touch if he were to rearrange it.

“Prejudiced opinions,” she repeated the words, feeling a jolt through her vein, a movement which translated to a squeeze of Woohyun’s hand. Her conversation with Sungyeol repeated itself in her mind; the forbearing feeling of victory wounded up feeling like a great loss instead.

Sungyeol claimed his brother had gone missing, meaning the family never intended to abandon him. Yet, a mere outsider who loathed the rich, allowed her prejudice to form just opinions towards injustice. She took the young boy with her, believing he had been granted a good future when in fact, she had robbed him of a greater one.

She ruined Daeyeol.

Her thoughts dissipated when she felt a sudden touch caressing the small space between her eyebrows. “What are you doing, Mr. Nam?”

“I am smoothing out the frowns from your face. Would it help rid you of your worries?” He asked softly, continuing the gentle act.

The clamor in her heart was uncontainable, each beat outracing the pace of the previous one. She disliked the thoughtfulness of his well crafted words, the sweetness with which he conveyed it, and the gentleness found in his faint touches. Because the more he evinced such mannerism, the more she grew to adore them.

“If only matters could be dilapidated with such ease,” she spoke, taking his hand away from her face. He threaded his fingers with hers once again, and she allowed his affectionate touch to gloom over her worries.

“You may find comfort if you were to tell someone of your troubled thoughts,” he suggested.

The playfulness in her eyes dimmed, weighing a solution she was not willing to face. To speak her fear out loud was to breathe conviction into it. However, Woohyun was no friend of prejudice in the same manner she had forsaken it against him. The only person who could accept her radical thoughts was him.

“You once told me you were no good man,” she uttered with a sad lilt to her voice. “I have reason to believe I am no good woman either.”

Woohyun read the bona fide in her tone, wondering where she had gone to trigger such depressing thoughts.

“That could either imply our compatibility, or that the world has rid itself of good people,” he said, managing to bring humor to her sorrowful frown. “Then again, why should we determine who is good or bad when God Himself has chosen to befriend sinners and saints alike?”

“Your speech encourages a condescending behavior to keep sinning if we are all equally favored,” she countered.

“Again, I must correct you,” Woohyun said and turned around to halt before her. “Realizing you are loved, wouldn’t you want to present yourself at your best? You wouldn’t deliberately hurt the one you love, would you?”

Hyunmi dared not stare at him, afraid to see the expression on his face. If his eyes held her with genuine fondness, she feared her next course of actions may defy logic. A part of her wondered whether Woohyun was speaking of the Heavenly Father or of himself. She prefered to hurt neither.

As she pondered upon his words, he took her on a path coursing away from the house. It went to the backyard, revealing an open area surrounded by the monogamous trees of the forest behind them.

“Why have you taken me here?”

Her question answered itself when around the corner, she noticed everyone else caught in some hectic task. Jangjun and Dongwoo tried building a campfire, speaking nonsensical mantras to bring it to life. Daeyeol and Sungyoon poured marshmallows into some empty bowls. Jineul and Youngtaek used the sticks to poke the marshmallows and engaged in a puerile swordplay instead. Joochan sat at the side playing a tune on his guitar, while Donghyun swiftly moved on his feet to dance along. And in the distanced corner, Sungjong sat silently with the proper stance of a rich young man, silently watching, silently judging.

“Sister!” Dongwoo was the first to notice them. His eyes immediately traveled to their entwined fingers, and his surprise registered into a mischievous smirk.

Hyunmi noticed that look, and immediately retracted her hands from Woohyun. What had she been thinking in the first place? She was not supposed to delight herself in his company, let alone feel the brush of his skin against her own. Her heart was not supposed to beat for him, and yet it did.

“Is there a cause worthy of celebration?” Hyunmi asked.

“Yes! We want to cheer Jangjun up, mother! We will fill the night with music, dancing, and good food!” Donghyun threw his arms in the air, lightly hopping from his feet to start off the dancing.

“His heart still aches like a wandering soul without a purpose on Earth,” Joochan narrated Jangjun’s lamentation. “Oh, if only his kindred soul found the courage to profess his love.”

“Then we wouldn’t need to go through this entire bonanza to bring him good cheers,” Daeyeol spoke, laughing as Jangjun grumbled beside him.

The sound of his laughter became a melody of salvation to Hyunmi. If she had done Daeyeol wrong by taking him here, could she right it by providing the warmth of a family? Despite growing up in a rich environment, Woohyun gallivanted his way into their house and resumed his stay. Sungjong became a part of their party, unable to resist the magnetizing pull of their fervor.

“Considering you have completed your simple task, could you come here and lend us a hand with the campfire?” Jangjun asked Daeyeol, snatching a piece of marshmallow for himself.

“I may assist you with it,” Woohyun offered instead.

“Ha! Such tasks are not reserved for the spoiled upperclass men. You barely knew how to wash dishes,” Youngtaek immediately took the chance to chide him.

“The only time I spent in the kitchen was dedicated to culinary craftsmanship,” Woohyun pointed out, to which Dongwoo and Donghyun cheered at. “But I am far more capable than your expectation placed upon me.”

“I believe we need proof,” Jineul agreed with Youngtaek’s accusations. She placed a hand on her hips, scrutinizing her eyes toward the wealthy man.

The challenge started as Woohyun studied the dry wood, instructing Donghyun and Sungyoon to retrieve several items. The two were more than eager to assist him, running back and forth into the house like sprinting athletes. Alas, he did not bluff his abilities and managed to ignite the fire.

“Now we shall start feasting!” Daeyeol declared.

“What a shame Rika isn’t here,” Jineul said, violently poking the marshmallow with her stick. “She would’ve loved this.”

“Do not mourn over her absence as if she had passed. We need to celebrate for she will be a famous artist,” Daeyeol reminded them all.

“I’ve only heard good things around town. People heard of Mr. And Mrs. Kim’s personal artist and are curious of his identity,” Sungyoon added.

“Those sexist pigs have no clue she’s female. Ha! This would surprise them all,” Jineul said.

“What else have you heard?” Jangjun asked eagerly.

Being the one in charge of errands, Sungyoon spent most of his time strolling around town, collecting the recent trends and rumors from passersby. His silence and indifference allowed him to remain invisible to others, creating the perfect opportunity to return home with more than groceries.

“Being employed in the Kim household is akin to being born into wealth. Apparently, Mr. Kim treats women with respect, and he is pleasant to the eye,” Sungyoon relaid. Myungsoo’s visual became the topic of numerous discussions. Had he not been married to Seulyi, women would shamelessly throw themselves at the eligible bachelor.

“Then we must surely celebrate!” Daeyeol cheered once more, leading everyone to a loud huzzah before the dancing and singing resumed. He roasted a marshmallow and returned to Hyunmi’s side, which was for once oddly absent from Woohyun.

“Where has your knight in shining armor gone off to?” He jested, drawing a laugh as he handed the roasted marshmallow to her.

Hyunmi’s eyes drawled to Woohyun who was keeping the others entertained by telling them an epic tale. Youngtaek was quick to point out his mistakes, but everyone hushed him for it. The sight was endearing, and quite unexpected for a wealthy man. No one of prestigious status would be willing to make a fool of himself in front of the society’s castaways, and yet Woohyun did.

“This may sound quite strange, but everytime I look at Mr. Nam, I am under the impression that he belonged to us all along,” Daeyeol spoke, ripping the marshmallow off with his teeth.

Hyunmi’s eyes locked on the man who brought a crowd of laughter with him, including Youngtaek who bit his cheeks to prevent a laughter. Eventually he surrendered, and they teased him for it. The sight brought her to a smile. “Why should you think so?”

“Peradventure there was a fault in our prejudice. I barely see the line of disparity being drawn tonight,” Daeyeol spoke, nudging his head to Sungjong who had unknowingly settled himself beside the rest, laughing along to Woohyun’s tale.

“Neither do I see the despair,” Hyunmi observed. “Instead, I see people who are alike: who are perfect and flawed at the same time, who laughs at the same humor, and eat the same meal. We breathe and live as one, why should there be a boundary?”

Daeyeol gave her a thoughtful look, nodding at her words. He grew up listening to her lecture about the rich, about their savage methods and selfish desires. Conceding her misjudgements required a certain maturity, and he respected and admired her for it.

“If I had to be reborn, I would choose this very moment over and over again,” Daeyeol suddenly uttered, drawing Hyunmi to turn to him with surprise.

“Truly?” She nearly choked, feeling her voice caught at the back of her throat. How had he known these words of reassurance without her having to address the raging storms in her heart?

“Truly,” Daeyeol repeated, drawing his long arm over her petite shoulder. He leaned his head against her in the affectionate way true family members would. “I would always choose this family.”

Hyunmi wondered whether the Heavenly Father played a part in the impeccable timing of Daeyeol’s confession. She allowed herself to rest against him, feeling the heavyweight burden lifted once she casted the tension away. Despite the wrongdoings of the past, a restoration was administered for the future. Daeyeol found happiness here, and no regrets could surpass this knowledge.

“Mother! Mother!” Donghyun suddenly appeared, launching himself to embrace her. He looked up at her with bright eyes and smiled widely. “It’s time to dance!”

“I am a terrible dancer, and you know that,” Hyunmi spoke with a laugh, allowing herself to get pulled away by Donghyun. Daeyeol’s merry laughter was indication he did not mind the interruption. “Are you my dance partner, Donghyun?”

“No,” Donghyun said, grinning mischievously when he unexpectedly twirled behind her and gave her a push forward. “We want you to dance with Mr. Nam.”

Hyunmi yelped when her body nearly tripped, only to be caught by none other than the beloved Mr. Nam. His sweet floral scent invaded her senses, overpowering the burn of the outdoor fire. Her fingers spread over his chest, unintentionally feeling the hard ripples of his muscles. Dear Lord, it made her blush.

“I tried to decline, but it seems the children are fond of seeing us together,” Woohyun spoke with an impish grin, showing no real opposition towards the idea.

Hyunmi hadn’t realized he had been whispering until his warm breath tickled her ear. The small gesture created a big reaction in her heart, calling forth a mixture of emotions beyond her control.

“It did not seem like you put up a great protest against it,” she managed to maintain her playful tone, despite him snatching her breath away.

“Neither did you,” he replied, a charming smile curving his lips. Truthfully, they both knew no one was against the idea, including themselves.

“Take distance, both of you!” Except Youngtaek, of course, but Donghyun and Sungyoon quickly prevented him from interrupting.

“Less talking, more dancing,” Joochan suddenly instructed, changing the pace of his song to a slow romantic ballad.

“Miss Jang, may I have this dance once more?” Woohyun asked for the sake of formality, but his arms already snaked around her waist, locking her very closely against himself. The stance was different from the posture during Seulyi’s party. The lack of formality brought forth an intimacy that ballroom dancing failed to accomplish.

“I don’t suppose I have a choice to decline you,” she said, linking her arms behind his neck.

“You do, but I don’t think you would decline me,” Woohyun said. Despite his arrogant statement, there was a hint of vulnerability that feared her rejection—his confidence was only a mean of concealing it. Knowing this, she had an odd desire to assure him from such thoughts.

“I wouldn’t,” she confessed in a small whisper. By the manner his arms tightened around her, she assumed he heard her after all. She hid her smile by avoiding his gaze, positioning her head to almost fall against his chest, to almost listen to the rhythm of his heart beat, to almost let herself be fully held by him, but not yet.

Soon, the others joined to dance around the blazing campfire. Considering they could do naught with the mellow romantic ballad, Joochan quickened the pace of the song. They resumed their dancing in an undignified manner, wanting to indulge in the moment of temporary bliss.

Daeyeol rather stuffed himself on more marshmallows, noting one other person had abstained from joining the festivity as well. He took another piece of roasted marshmallow and headed over to Sungjong.

When Sungjong accepted the marshmallow without a word, Daeyeol sat down in silence. He did not know what drove him over, only confiding in the fact Hyunmi managed to bring out the best of Woohyun. Perhaps, Sungjong wasn’t as arrogant as he pertained to be either. Perhaps the wealthy weren’t entirely despicable.

They remained silent with each other, allowing triumphant cheers to echo in the background. Only when Daeyeol decided to leave did Sungjong rasp out a question.

“Do you suppose this is genuine?”

“What?” Daeyeol darted his eyes back and forth between Sungjong and the direction of his gaze. He was staring at Woohyun and Hyunmi who danced with different partners now, but remained closely together.

“I am certain everyone knows of Mr. Woohyun's intention to claim the house. Why do you allow his stay?”

Daeyeol grinned widely at his remark. “Because people change. Mr. Nam has found a different purpose to remain here.”

Sungjong was no fool and easily deciphered the meaning behind his words. Everyone had assumed Woohyun to bear affections for Hyunmi, himself included. However, after their recent meeting with Sunggyu and Sungyeol, he could hardly unravel reality. Woohyun had convinced him of his facade, but surely the way he held Hyunmi in his gaze could not be one of pretenses. The eyes were the window of the soul, and it was the only trick Woohyun never learned to control.

“The society believes that happiness stems from material wealth, but I beg to differ. Happiness is found in the people we surround ourselves with,” Daeyeol continued, turning to Sungjong with a smile. “Isn’t it for that reason you keep returning here, Mr. Sungjong?”

The rich young man flinched, his chagrined gaze hardened as if he had been caught of an intention even he himself was unaware of. Their foolish ways of celebrating was akin to barbaric cavemen, and it drew him in. At home he was told to study, to remain a respectable figure, to obey his brother, and to remember that the wealthy reigned supreme.

But what was the use of studying when Hyunmi’s speech educated him of moral values his textbook didn’t contain? What use had he for being respectable when rescuing Jineul from the brothel brought a greater sense of accomplishment? Why should he obey a brother who refused to listen to him in the manner Daeyeol generously offered his time? What did the wealthy reign over when happiness rejected them?

“You are an admirable person for helping Jineul. For that reason, we would always welcome you here,” Daeyeol spoke, getting up from his place, patting the other twice on his shoulder.

Sungjong wanted to retaliate, saying he would rather die than remain in a place that stank of poverty, but his lips remained frozen. Instead, heaven answered for him through a heavy downpour.

“It did rain! I told you, I told you so!” Jangjun’s voice blasted over everyone else’s screams and laughters.

At once, they scrambled their belongings, protecting the leftover bowl of marshmallows and ran back into the house. The campfire they had built with much effort was extinguished within mere seconds, and they had no time to watch it plummet back to ash.

“You were so dejected, we couldn’t possibly delay cheering you up,” Sungyoon told his friend and nudged his arm once they were back inside the house. “Rika is in good hands, you should cast off those fears.”

“Allow the rain to wash off your worries. Delight in the present moment instead,” Hyunmi turned to the rest, laughing when everyone had their fair share of raindrops drizzled over their hair and clothes—nothing alarming enough to bring forth a sickness. Between the crowd of familiar faces, she sought out for one person, realizing he was absent.

“Where is my brother?”

Only then did everyone stare around, counting only ten of them. The thunder struck outside, reminding everyone of the storm they were trapped in. Realization hit them.

Dongwoo was missing.


	18. Storm

At the end of a raging storm, the sun would return to claim its reign. Such was the hope people held on to during miserable times. The house provided physical shelter, but the restlessness in their heart continued an outpouring as great as the upheaval outside, left to wonder when the storm would end.

Tiny drizzles of raindrop morphed into sharp elements of hail and ice shards, piercing one’s skin in a foreign manner. The Stygian nightsky painted a picture of death, deluding onlookers through a sporadic mirage of a heavenly white glow that illuminated for brief seconds only to hear the nocturne of disturbing roar bellow afterwards.

Donghyun whimpered at the monstrous noise, wrapping his trembling arms around Hyunmi’s waist to seek solace. “I’m scared.”

Despite her worries regarding her brother’s whereabout, she cherished the little boy as her own son and needed to calm him. Hyunmi wrapped her fingers around Donghyun’s and knelt down at his eye level, prepared to spin the terrifying storm into a delightful tale.

“You may fear the rain and thunder for now, but you musn’t forget the plants and crops outside are enjoying their rain bath. Frightening phenomenons may bring positive outcomes beyond our understanding.”

Donghyun blinked his tears away. “What about the thunder? Do plants take thunder baths as well?”

Woohyun chuckled at the little boy’s curiosity and knelt down beside Hyunmi to address him. “Nay, the thunder is needed to part the dark sky with its brimming light.”

“But we have the moon and stars for that,” Donghyun reasoned.

“Why, what a bright young man you are! The thunder is a friend to the moon and stars because they are different, yet serve the same purpose,” Woohyun said, tousling the little boy’s hair affectionately. “You are the smartest and bravest man I know. Chin up, I have a task for you.”

His words showered Donghyun with a tremendous sense of pride. He stood upright and clicked his heels together like a soldier at rest. “What is it, Mr. Nam?”

“I require you to stay and watch the house during my absence as I embark through the storm to find Dongwoo. Can I trust you with this important task, Donghyun?”

“Certainly!” Donghyun saluted firmly, trying to conceal his trembling fingers. Words of confidence surpassed his fears, igniting a willpower to be brave.

Woohyun returned to his feet, offering a hand to Hyunmi to follow his movements. Despite her atypical silence, he deciphered her worries and gratitude through the gaze in her disparate eyes.

“Do not worry about me.” He always reserved a softer and gentler tone when addressing her. His fingers caressed the side of her face, yearning to remove her worries with a small kiss against her hands, her cheeks, or her lips. He heaved a breath, feeling the falter in his restraints had he stared at her a second longer. “I shall find your brother and return home.”

The moment he turned to leave, Hyunmi hooked her finger with his. The small move elicited a great uproar in his heart. He gazed at their fingers before looking up to meet her chocolate brown eyes; the color of earth, comfort, and home.

“Be careful,” she said, pressing her lips together to prevent herself from bellowing a longer parting sentence. She let go of his hand, watching his brilliant smile of assurance before he disappeared into the darkness of the night.

“Mr. Nam may require our assistance,” Daeyeol spoke, staring at the rest who did not hesitate joining the search party.

“Let me join,” Jineul volunteered, but before she set foot outside the house, Jangjun held her back.

“Nay, you will remain here,” he commanded.

“Nobody has the authority to order me around. Move aside! I shall go and find Dongwoo myself. You lousy good for nothing rats wouldn’t be able to carry this simple task,” she said, pushing Jangjun aside.

“You need to cease your mannish ways. You are a _girl_ , Jineul. We wouldn’t forgive ourselves if something were to overcome you,” Jangjun continued arguing.

“Indeed,” Daeyeol nodded, using his tall frame to block Jineul’s path. “You are part of our family, and that likens you to a sister now. You must stay here with mother and watch over her instead.”

His words managed to simmer through Jineul’s resolve, loosening the tension in her shoulder. Despite her tendency to disagree, she failed to reject compassionate words. For once, the pariah within her managed to receive a sense of belonging she never had the privilege of experiencing. The stubborn warrior within her melted.

“Please return home safely,” Hyunmi told the boys, her eyes transfixed until they disappeared from her sight. Only Joochan, Donghyun, and Sungjong remained in the company of the two ladies.

“You are a coward!” Jineul suddenly addressed Sungjong who had been observing everything in silence.

“What?”

“You are a man, yet your wealthy bum decides to bask in the comfort of a warm house, devoid of any noble intention to rescue a man. I have never seen anyone more selfish than you are!” She spat out at him, speaking with such derision to ensue a fight. Jineul needed an outlet to minister her frustrations on, and the poor young man became her victim.

“Mind your language, filthy harlot. I rescued you from the brothel, and defied my brother by remaining here,” Sungjong countered.

“I heard the tale myself and beg to differ. You didn’t rescue me because of your benevolent heart; you rescued me because you fear guilt chasing after you. You did not remain here to defy your brother, you fear returning to his presence! Do not hide behind a pretentious nobility, for you possess none of it, dratted boy.”

Sungjong’s lips twitched to retaliate a response, his hands clenching into a fist. How dare the lowly ranked harlot insult him without pertaining knowledge of his situation? Yet, deep within, he knew she hadn’t been far off from the truth.

“Your quarrell matches the thunderous atmosphere outside, both equally noisy,” Joochan spoke.

How unusual it was for him to take up the pacifist role that had belonged to Hyunmi. Not once had she halted the arguments, having detached herself from reality when her concern lied in the matters outside. Joochan stayed at home to safeguard all of them, knowing their beloved mother had other matters in her mind.

Donghyun released Hyunmi’s hand, stepping closer toward the door that separated him from the rainstorm outside. A brave man would not remain in hiding and would daringly choose to rescue another amidst the storm, as Jineul said.

Perhaps, he was not the bravest after all.

***

“Mr. Nam, I suggest we split up in pairs,” Daeyeol spoke as they caught up to the man heading towards the forest.

“Nay, return to the house at once, I beseech you. The search for Dongwoo is a one man’s task, and I shall oblige it,” Woohyun uttered, adjusted his sight to the blinding surrounding. The pouring rain started to deteriorate their stamina and blur their vision from continuing.

“Are you always this arrogant? Your wealth and money won’t aid you in finding a missing person,” Youngtaek sneered aversely. The solution to a rich man’s problem always appeared in the form of money, which bore no value in this dire situation.

“That was not my intention. I do not wish for the weather to harm you,” Woohyun explained.

“Your intention is noble, however, you musn’t forget Dongwoo is a family to us as he is to you,” Daeyeol reminded.

“A collective group effort yields better result than an individual man’s striving,” Sungyoon added, missing the slowing pace in Woohyun’s steps who reluctantly surrendered to this new idea. “Now Jangjun, where do you suppose Dongwoo would be at?”

“I wager he has run into the forest, believing the trees could shield him from the storm,” Jangjun answered, bearing better understanding of the elder he had religiously cared for. “My greatest fear lies in the debacle of his sanity. If his mental disturbances were to resurface, I dread knowing what will become of him in this storm.”

His heed of warning became a grim reminder to them. None said a word, but an unsettling panic rushed over their system, syncing their pace to quicken without a verbal command.

The enormous forest was a foreign territory to those who had never trespassed its boundary. Every tree took on a monogamous shape, bearing no individual characteristic to distinguish it from one another.

During their walk, they heard occasional noises of a rusty object swishing against a rough surface. Turning around, they beheld Youngtaek moving his arms in front of the tree trunks, each movement accompanied by the swishing chime.

“Youngtaek, why do you wield a knife?” Daeyeol questioned with wide eyed surprise. The darkness didn’t conceal the sharp metal tip of Youngtaek’s small knife.

“It is a means of protection against the potential ambush from any wild beast roaming around this area. However, I realize they make excellent indicators of our location. With this, we wouldn’t lose our way in this maze,” Youngtaek explained. He brushed his fingers over the indented wood, proud of the marks he had carved.

“Remarkable,” Woohyun sounded genuinely amazed.

It nearly drove Youngtaek with a sense of pride, but remembering who had acknowledged him, he quickly dismissed it. He was no Donghyun, and such encouragement—despite elevating his moral—would not earn his favor.

“Look!” Sungyoon’s loud voice interrupted. He halted in his tracks, pointing towards the muddy floor beneath them. Another lightning flash revealed the sight hidden in darkness; there were footprints belonging to none of them.

It had to be Dongwoo’s.

They consternately followed the imprints in the mud, clutching the hem of each other’s dripping attire to prevent a fallout or slip as they embarked to the deeper part of the forest.

It didn’t take long before the thunder rolled again, this time, revealing a curled up figure crouched beneath the tall grass and tree leaves. Dongwoo had taken shelter. His body rocked back and forth, chanting familiar phrases to the emptiness around him.

“They’re coming… They’re coming…”

They had lost him to his recurring hallucinations.

“Dongwoo, we must take you back,” Jangjun knelt down beside the elder. “Can you walk on your own?”

“They’re coming… They’re coming…”

“It won’t work,” Youngtaek commented.

“The only person who could save him from his deluded state is mother,” Sungyoon spoke.

Woohyun’s face hardened at this, understanding what was implied. “We shall not get her involved in this weather.”

He crouched on the floor, paying no attention to the dirt staining his luxurious attire. He wrapped an arm around Dongwoo shoulder, feeling the cold body shiver under his touch. There had to be a trigger word to ignite his inner peace, as Hyunmi had figured out.

“Dongwoo, your sister is waiting for you,” he attempted, seeing no change in the elder’s frantic mumblings. Hyunmi had said something else, and Woohyun traced his memories to the worried yet gentle manner she had spoken to her brother, eliciting words he could not make sense of. It was worth an attempt.

“We are here. They are gone. There is the light, see?” He recited the words perfectly. And as if to aid him in his quest, the sky flashed a bright ray of thunder, providing light.

“Hyunmi…” Dongwoo enunciated his sister’s name, which set their hearts at ease. Slowly, the elder began to regain consciousness of his reality, staring at each person with an aghast expression. “Hyunmi?”

“Worry not, she is at home, awaiting your return,” Woohyun spoke, maintaining the serenity in his tone to reduce the panic in Dongwoo.

“We must return before the storm worsens,” Jangjun said, carefully placing his arm around Dongwoo to haul him up.

To their relief, Dongwoo had fully regained his understanding and managed to walk back home by himself. He may even have sprinted ahead of them when he sighted his sister awaiting him by the window.

Hyunmi nearly ran outside to greet her brother with open arms, had it not been for Joochan who grabbed her hand to prevent her recklessness. They waited for Dongwoo to storm into the house, quickly pulling his sister in a wet embrace.

“Do not ever disappear again. My heart fell at the thoughts of what could have possibly happened to you,” Hyunmi shrieked, the tears streaming down her face. His skin was entirely frozen and he shivered like the weather had nearly put him to death. She pushed the blame on herself once more.

“All is well, we should all get changed to prevent catching a cold,” Jangjun jested, though clearly, that was unavoidable at this point.

“Wait,” Sungjong suddenly remarked, attracting everyone’s attention to fall on him.

“What is it?” Woohyun prompted.

“The little boy,” Sungjong began, in reference of Donghyun. His eyes roamed around the room before falling on the residents again. “I haven’t seen him for a while.”

As if on cue, they all turned around to seek traces of Donghyun. They found naught.

“His shoes are gone. He must’ve gone outside!” Joochan noticed.

“In this storm? He was terrified of it,” Hyunmi exclaimed.

Woohyun could not believe it. It had been his fault. Donghyun had been afraid, and he had spurged confidence to overcome it. If he had kept his silence, the little boy would not need to prove himself worthy of the title.

Without saying a word, he sprinted his way back outside, welcoming the prickling rain once more. The little boy could not have gotten far considering he’d be too scared to make any bold or rushed decisions. Looking around, he realized the others had joined him once more.

“Mr. Nam, we must split up,” Daeyeol repeated the same suggestion. “Donghyun is more fragile and harder to find. We need to haul all our abilities to find him as soon as possible.”

“Very well. Give a shout once you have located him,” Woohyun surrendered to the idea. He watched everyone disperse unto different directions before darted toward the forest.

He felt uneasy about their reconvened meeting, for he was to blame for Donghyun’s disappearance. However, their obstinate behavior refused to wait idly at home. The sooner they located Donghyun, the sooner he could sent others to return home.

The need to care and worry for other people’s wellbeing was a foreign feeling to his heart. He attained a renewed understanding of Hyunmi’s fear—knowing that the consequences to a benign action may not always bring forth a positive result. However, he must not lose hope, as he had told her back then. A negative outcome may be a disguise for positive beginnings. Such were the promises he chanted to himself as he wandered aimlessly through the forest.

He brushed his hand over every tree trunk, looking for the mark Youngtaek had carved, only to find none. However, his fingertips ran along the lines of what seemed to be a man made dent caused by a knife. He continued walking, sweeping against the trees to discover not one or two, but an entire trail of carved marks. Youngtaek had been here, and as Woohyun decided to take up the opposite path, a faint cry from the distance halted him.

“Help!”

The mournful plea sounded too alarming to be ignored, and Woohyun ran faster through the darkness, relying on his hearing to follow the source. The voice gradually grew louder, and he identified it not only as Donghyun’s, but also Youngtaek’s scream.

His heart froze with disbelief when he arrived at the end of the forest. The trees were behind him, and in front, was the ledger of a cliff.

“Dear heavens,” he uttered to himself, daring himself to peer beyond the cliff. The loud drumming of his heart nearly muted the amplified cries as he stepped closer to the edge. And indeed, dangling from a fragile looking branch, were Donghyun and Youngtaek.

“Hold on! Do not scream; reserve your stamina,” he instructed them.

Woohyun knelt down on the edge, balancing himself through a flimsy grip against the rocky edge. He extended his arms to the two boys who had nearly began to cry, realizing he could barely reached them.

“Use your shirt,” a familiar voice suddenly sounded.

Woohyun turned around, never been more happy to find company from another person. The shock registered on his face when he identified the least likely person to abandon the comfort of a warm haven, Sungjong.

“Use your shirt as a rope,” Sungjong repeated again, ignoring the questioning look on the elder’s face.

Woohyun snapped to reality, immediately unbuttoning his shirt. He did not care for the hazardous raindrops piercing his skin, focusing on his need to save the two. He twirled the shirt around one hand, lowering the other end to the boys.

“Hold on!”

The two took a leap of faith, hurriedly releasing the fragile tree branch to switch their balance to the shirt. The sudden weight nearly pulled Woohyun stumbling off the cliff, but Sungjong’s reaction was much faster as he grabbed unto the shirt, exerting strength to balance the weight.

“Pull!” Woohyun shouted.

They synchronized their steps with every count, managing to lift the two up at a slow pace. But the rain tried to hinder their success, throwing a greater outpouring that depleted their strength.

“Mr. Nam, the shirt is tearing apart!” Youngtaek yelled, his voice a high pitch of horror, nearly choking on his own tears.

Time was running out, and Woohyun was forced to make a prompt decision. He couldn’t estimate the distance between them, but after hauling the two, perhaps he’d be able to reach them now.

“Do not let go, Sungjong,” Woohyun commanded once more.

“What?” Sungjong’s eyes widened in fear and panic when the unthinkable happened. Woohyun released his grip from the shirt, rushing to the edge of the cliff where he knelt down, so dangerous he may have fallen off himself. The weight was too much for Sungjong to handle on his own. As he felt the pebbles collecting against his foot, pulling him forward towards the cliff of death, several pair of arms appeared out of nowhere, each grabbing unto the shirt.

Sungjong looked up in wonder, his lips tilting unknowingly. The others had appeared in time.

Woohyun extended his arms once more, wrapping it around the boys’ waist as he used every bit of strength in him to carry them up the same time the others resorted to their final pull. Everyone’s strength combined as one, and with another haul, Donghyun and Youngtaek tumbled safely on land.

Donghyun suppressed his tears, only unleashing it all at once as he embraced himself against Woohyun’s fatigued body. The poor boy shook with so much tremor, Woohyun had to hold him tightly to ease the uncontrollable movement.

“Forgive me. I tried to be brave. I wanted to be brave. But I made a mistake and fell down. I was so scared. I nearly died. But then… But then I knew you would come for me. I believe you would rescue me. And you really did, _father_ , you really did.”

Woohyun’s flinched at Donghyun’s speech, feeling a sudden warmth invade his chest. Father. Such was the name the little boy had coined for him. A relieved smile took over his face, and he wrapped Donghyun tighter against himself.

“On the contrary, I have never encountered anyone braver than you, Donghyun.”

He did not know what overcame him when he planted a soft peck against Donghyun’s forehead, as he would to his own son someday.

Woohyun continued to brush his fingers over Donghyun’s hair, staring at the rest who regarded him with grateful smiles. He could barely understand the situation or decipher what had happened. How did they manage to locate his whereabouts in time? What had prompted Sungjong to join the search? Despite the uncertainties, the orphans taught him a foreign concept he hadn’t learned of before.

A collective group effort yielded better result than an individual man’s striving, indeed.

***

Their return to the house was festively received by the ones who had impatiently been waiting for good news. Their muddy pants, drenched out blouses, sweaty forehead, and dirty fingers did not exempt them from the welcoming shouts.

“Mother!” Donghyun immediately let go of Woohyun’s hand, running into Hyunmi’s arms who began apologizing endlessly.

“I never should have taken my eyes off of you. Forgive me, Donghyun. Forgive me.”

“Nay, mother. All is well with me. Youngtaek found me, but he fell off the cliff while trying to help me,” Donghyun began explaining. His voice no longer trembled. Instead, it was laced with a heroic tone that took pride in his endeavor.

“Fell of a cliff?” Hyunmi asked in panic, eyeing Youngtaek. She rushed over to him, pulling the boy into her embrace. Her relief blinded her from the manner her actions affected Youngtaek; the way his cheeks reddened and his entire body stiffened, as if every limb of his body lost its ability to function. “You have done well, Youngtaek.”

The sight, as heartwarming as it was, managed to constrict Woohyun’s chest with some annoyance. A part of him wished he was the one in her embrace, that she would have shed a tear at his safe return, and acknowledge the great role he played tonight.

“Mr. Nam was the true hero. He saved us both,” Youngtaek then spoke in a meek whisper, reluctantly praising his rival for his heroic deed. He dared not fathom what would become of Donghyun and him if Woohyun hadn’t found them in time.

Then, for a short second, Hyunmi looked up at the man who made all the differences in her life. For him, she always spared her softest and most affectionate gaze. A smile graced her lips in a manner unlike before, imparting silent words of gratitude he read through her fervent eyes.

She evoked the most wonderful feeling of elation in his chest, wishing he could collect the euphoric sentiment and store it inside a tiny jar to keep with him forever. He would do anything to see another glimpse of her heavenly smile that surpassed even an angel’s kiss.

Woohyun realized then, he had no need for any other reward as long as he had this family.

As long as he had her.


	19. Fever

The resurgence of a heroic act lied in one’s ability to selflessly place another person above oneself, notwithstanding the consequences of the suffering and ache it brought forth. When the gallant rainstorm receded by sunrise, the heroes who embarked through the hazardous rainstorm rested in bed. None were immune to the plague instituted upon their bodies; they caught a fever.

Since early morning, Hyunmi had spent her hours making the comfort dish needed by an ill patient. Once the porridge was finished, Joochan and Jineul helped her distribute a bowl to every sick patient. All except for one, the very last one, which Joochan handed to Hyunmi.

“Mr. Nam has not been given his portion, but your presence by his side may awaken him like a budding flower during Spring time,” Joochan spoke, an unusual mischievous tone accompanying his habitual prose.

His words managed to ignite a sudden jolt in Hyunmi’s heart, wondering whether the boy had been correct. If he had, dear heavens, she could not stop herself from anticipating his recovery.

“In return, I ask for your assistance in tending to the others,” she said, placing the final warm bowl of porridge on a tray, along with a lukewarm glass of water.

“Worry not, mother. We won’t let any of them die, not even the dunce Sungjong who monopolizes our space by sleeping in the living room,” Jineul spoke her violent words with an accompanying sweet smile. Uncanny. But nothing less could be expected from the fierce girl.

Hyunmi chuckled a little, carried the tray in her hand, and ascended upstairs towards Woohyun’s room.

The spiraling feelings fluttering in her chest must have been the gratitude she could no longer confine. Woohyun’s presence at their house, though detested at first, ended up being a blessing. Nay, in fact, his presence in her _life_ had been phenomenal, and she dared not think of spending a day without seeing his passionate gaze, his dimpled smiles, his merry laughter, or his sweet words. A life without him was unbearable to imagine.

Knowing she had conjured such thoughts made her blush, her heart galloping faster when she reached Woohyun’s room. He would most definitely make a kittish remark of her reddened cheeks, and without being hit by the raindrops, she had no excuse to blame the fever.

Her worries dissipated when she entered the room, noting the tranquil silence. Woohyun was still asleep.

She silently placed the tray on the nightdesk beside the bed, careful not to make the utensils rattle, allowing Woohyun to remain well rested.

It was time to leave, to let him be, but once again, her body had a will of its own. With her posture turned towards the door, she peered over her shoulder to the serene state of Woohyun’s sleeping posture, not knowing what made her move to sit at his bedside instead.

His chest rose and fell beneath the blanket in a calming rhythm. The sound of his breathing was a soft lullaby that surpassed the gentleness of a fine windy breeze during the warmer season, calming in the sense she would not mind listening to it for the rest of her life. He was utterly handsome when his charming eyes gazed at her, but in his sound state, there was another sort of ethereal beauty to him. His skin glowed despite his warm temperature, his lips puckered a peaceful smile, and his cheeks were a spot of two roses.

Hyunmi never realized studying the man would ignite a sudden release of affection that overflowed through her. This was the man who risked his life to save her brother, who ran into the rain to save the boy she considered her own son, the man who listened to her rantings, and calmed her of her worries. This was the man who made her believe in things she had already given up hope for.

Her hands instinctively reached out for his, faintly brushing her fingers around his idle ones. He felt warm, like the blazing flame of a hearth she wished to always wrap herself with.

Suddenly, he made a small noise, twitching his fingers at the physical contact. Before Hyunmi could retract her hand, he already wrapped his own fingers around hers, clutching a grip he wouldn’t release. Then his eyes sprang open, and met hers with a smile.

“Good morning, precious,” he spoke, his voice an astonishing low timbre that made her body tingle.

She had mistaken her own heart’s pace. Whether it was the affection he beheld her with, the beautiful smile that greeted her, or the term of endearment no one else had ever spared her with, her heart paced a million times faster now.

“Good morning,” she managed to relay the words without stuttering, slightly averting her eyes from him, knowing she would not want to look away had she peered deeper into his hypnotizing eyes.

Woohyun noticed the weird behavior, and widened his grin. Then he peered at their connected fingers, and absentmindedly began drawing circles with his thumb.

“It appears I was correct once again,” he spoke with a brimming tone of pride.

“How so?”

“If I were to fall sick, I reckon you’d be the first person at my bedside,” he spoke, the smile spreading over his lips. “And here you are.”

“I equally care for every single one of you,” she retorted.

“Truly?” His eyes glimmered with mischief. “Do you hold their hands during sleep and wait by their bedside as well, or am I, once again, the only one with such privileges?”

Knowing her defeat, she tried pulling her hand as a sign of protest only to have him hold on even tighter.

“Do not be mistaken, Mr. Nam. I came here to offer my utmost gratitude. You saved my brother, and also prevented calamity to befall Donghyun and Youngtaek,” she said, her voice a soft lilt. She kept her eyes on their connected fingers, reluctantly forming a smile. “Thank you.”

After moments of silence, she dared to look up at him, seeing he had been staring at her with the most affectionate smile, one that cherished her, and viewed her as some treasure.

“It is my pleasure to be of service to you,” he said, mimicking a formal curtsy from his bed. The clumsy movement made her giggle, and he always took pride in his ability to draw the beautiful smile on her face. “I would have done it for any of them. I have grown to love them as if they were children of my own.”

“Donghyun refers to you as his father now,” Hyunmi remarked, the smile still visible on her lips.

“Considering I risked my life to save his, I suppose it is the highest title I could earn from the little boy,” Woohyun said with some humor. Then he squeezed her hand, unconsciously starting to caress her soft skin again. “What draws me most to the endearing term is the knowledge that he refers to you as mother. For a fleeting moment, I can experience what it would feel like to be your lover.”

What an appealing thought it was, and Hyunmi nearly spoke words of agreement. However, she maintained the last bit of self control despite her heart’s increasing tempo.

“If you bear the strength to spew enchanting words, I suppose you can eat. I made porridge,” Hyunmi quickly averted the topic. She reached out to the bowl as Woohyun released her hand and sat himself up, leaning against the headrest.

“Porridge? Have you made it yourself?” He asked with a clear hint of excitement.

“Yes. It is an effective remedy in a time of fever. Though judging on your fervent behavior, you hardly seem the sick person, Mr. Nam.”

“That is because you are here with me. Haven’t you heard? The true cure to a malady is another person’s tender love and affection.”

Her heart pounced at his words, and she kept her eyes on the porridge, afraid to see what brilliant smile he graced her with. “You are a remarkable story teller.”

“Ah, you didn’t deny my claims. It must be true then. You love me.”

Hyunmi didn’t expect him to be so brazen with his words. She jolted her head at him, unable to articulate a response. Had it been true? Had she already fallen in love with him?

“Eat,” she quickly prompted, pushing the spoon before him, which he happily obeyed with the child-like demeanor she sometimes saw in him. What an adorable sight it was.

She realized, whether he was the charming gal sneaker, the arrogant aristocrat, the jolly child, or the empathetic comrade, she adored each and every side there was to him.

“Why! This is the most delicious meal I have ever had in my life! Why have I not been introduced to it earlier?” He suddenly exclaimed, staring from the bowl, back at her, and back at the staple meal.

“Have you never had porridge in your life before?” Hyunmi questioned in disbelief.

“Nay, this is my first time. I must have more of it,” he spoke eagerly.

As Hyunmi fed him another spoon, a big lump expanded in her chest. She had been so blissed by her emotions to the point she became blinded to their reality. The disparity still existed; he was a wealthy upper class man, and she was the lowly ranked social pariah. No matter how much she cherished him, society would forbid them from pursuing more.

Woohyun noticed the immediate change in her mood, and his trembling hands set the bowl back on a tray. He grabbed both her hands, and she put no resistance. “It bothers me to see you saddened. Please, I beg of you, speak to me.”

She wetted her lips and bit the lower one, a sign of anxiety. “I owe a tremendous debt to your benevolence, Mr. Nam, one I am not entitled of. We come from different economic background, and I no longer wish to delight in your eleemosynary ways.”

“Hyunmi, I have never considered any of this as a contribution to charity. I am in control of my own actions, and I choose to shower you with lavish affection. Why do you refuse me?”

His words were incredibly pure, reeling her in to desire more and more of him. He seemed deluded from reality, as the aristocats had always been. Money does not solve all problems.

“I simply don’t think I will ever be capable of returning all those favors you have done for us,” she continued.

“I never asked you to. I wished for you to accept them,” he spoke, squeezing her hands. How he wished to impart the same understanding to her so they would share a common belief. But she was keen on the rules of society, of her morals: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Perhaps he approached it wrongly.

“Very well. If you insist on showing your gratitude, there is only one way to repay it,” he challenged her stubbornness.

Hyunmi met his firm gaze, the drumming of her heart audible in her ears. One way to repay him. He had mentioned it before, despite it being a jest, she knew he was asking for the same thing again.

A kiss.

As Woohyun came closer out of agitation, Hyunmi fiddled with the idea. It would not hurt. It could do no damage. She would have repaid him, and her heart would be at ease. It seemed the right thing to do.

With her hands still enveloped around his, she leaned forward and hovered in front of his face. His breath snatched, wondering and anticipating her next move. Then she moved closer, pressing her lips to the side of his cheek. It was a quick peck, fleeting away as quickly as it had appeared.

Woohyun searched her eyes with his own, seeing a change in her glint. His chest tightened at the tenderness of their exchange, quickening his breathing into heavy, unsteady rhythms. He moved his hand to caress the side of her cheek, wanting to savor the lush feeling—wanting to act out on the yearning he had restrained himself from, time after time again.

“That was hardly a kiss,” he whispered so soft against her lips, she would only feel the hot brushing if she hadn’t leaned in closer.

“I suppose,” she whispered an agreement, and Woohyun knew her defense faltered as much as his did.

His gaze lowered to her scarlet lips, waiting for a command to stop, to move away, to leave. But it never came. There was so much to lose, and much more to gain. He wanted her, despite what society would say, he wanted her.

“Tell me to stop, and I shall retreat,” he said, his lips inching closer to hers, holding on to the last bit of rationale she easily broke with a single reply.

“Don’t.”

Woohyun’s lips curled up with delight as he lessened the distance and finally, finally pressed his lips against hers. He had been dreaming for this moment to happen, not knowing reality would surpass even his sweetest fantasies. No longer did he need to restrain himself or deny the great attraction toward her, for in that moment, she reciprocated all he had ever felt.

The way she passionately returned his kiss and moved their lips with perfect synchronization made him wrap another arm around her waist, pulling her closer against him. She defined the forbidden danger he took solace in; of the pouring rain and roaring thunders during a storm, of the warm heat during a summer afternoon, and the blizzard during a wintry cold.

Yet, everything missing from his life was finally found in her, and he had no plans of letting her go.

He sensed her desire to remain against him, to keep her lips on his, but Woohyun was afraid he would not bear the self control to resist what he desired afterwards. As much as he hated it, he reluctantly pulled away. They stared at each other with the wonderment whether it had really happened.

Woohyun ran his long fingers over her cheek, cupping her pert face between his hands. “Now that I have gotten a taste of your lips, I think I shall always want to intoxicate myself in it.”

He planted another soft peck on her lips, which made her chuckle, completely blissed out.

“You are dear to me, Hyunmi. I have never met anyone who brings out the best in me in the manner you do. Please, would you accept my courtship?”

“I thought courtship was carried out through the exchange of letters,” she replied with an amused grin.

“We live under one roof, Hyunmi. But if it pleases you, I am willing to write you love letters.” He held her hands once more, reassuring himself from any possible rejection.

“Whatever you do shall please me tremendously,” she spoke, moving closer to his lips, elongating his anticipation. She grinned instead. “I’d be a fool not to accept you, Woohyun.”

His eyes widened in surprise. His fingers pinched hers in shock. A growing smile reflected the elation in his heart. “You called me by name!”

“People may mistake us for lovers, and I no longer have a reason to complain to such compelling thoughts,” she simply replied as he pulled her in his protective embrace. She chuckled, and in his time of sickness, decided to elevate his euphoria. “Whether I address you as my lover, my darling, my sweetheart, Mr. Nam, or Woohyun, know these terms of endearments are reserved for you alone.”

Woohyun kissed the side of her temple, allowing himself to get carried away by the currents of exultation.

By the time he pulled away, her face had bloomed into a full rose, beautifully pink all across her small shape. It was such an endearing sight, and Woohyun immediately recognized the bashfulness. It was as if she finally realized the weight of her words and the significance of it being imparted through a verbal oath.

“I… I must return and watch over the others,” Hyunmi quickly said, a truth resembling an excuse because of her rigid movements. She got up from the bed, feeling nervousness follow her in the form of her new lover’s gaze.

“I understand. However, I do wish you would return to me soon afterwards. I am certain I could recover much quicker if I embrace you, or perhaps, feel your lips upon mine again,” Woohyun replied with a playful smile, enjoying the manner with which she blushed at every one of his bolder comments.

“You will adhere to a speedy recovery if you rest more,” Hyunmi quickly said, knowing she had too much leniency toward his fantasy and her inability to reject them. Therefore, she found her only solution through a temporary escape. “Sweet dreams, Mr. Nam.”

With the final parting words, Hyunmi sauntered toward the door, not allowing herself a last glance at the handsome man. She leaned her back against the closed surface, her chest heaving in delight, her heart speeding with a galloping pace, the grin widening on her face.

Had it been real?

Her fingers traced the outline of her lips, savoring the sweet aftertaste of Woohyun’s lips. The memories were too vivid. She wished to stride back into the room and continue where they left off. If Woohyun hadn’t been sick, she would’ve nurtured this desire.

“Miss Hyunmi,” Sungjong’s voice suddenly interrupted. “Why are you smiling to yourself? You are abstained from the fever, yet your face is entirely red.”

“Y- You are up,” she spoke, her heart still beating deliriously fast at the replay of her kiss with Woohyun. It unwillingly made its way unto her face, producing another wide smile. “It brings great joy to see you well, Sungjong. Mr. Nam is awake, but I suggested him to get some proper rest.”

“I won’t take long, thank you.” Sungjong nodded as she hurried her steps downwards, keeping her face toward the floor the entire time.

The young man knocked on the door, surprised to see a similar expression of elation on Woohyun’s face once he entered the room. The elder sat in his bed, staring blankly at the wall in front of him, suddenly ridden by a spurge of merry laughter.

“Has the rain finally washed away your sanity? You look like a complete lunatic,” Sungjong tested, earning no usual snarky reply from Woohyun. The man was too drenched in euphoria to be bothered by his words. “Did something happen between you and Miss Hyunmi? She shared the same giddiness as shown on your face.”

Woohyun finally turned to him with a beam and proudly declared, “We kissed.”

“What?”

“We kissed.”

Sungjong’s mouth hung agape. Numerous questions and thoughts invaded his thoughts, conflicting him where to start. “Have you completely lost your mind? You do realize she is a low ranked woman. Not only will the society frown upon it, but your parents would disapprove!”

“My parents never cared for me since little. I wager they will hardly care about my future life partner,” Woohyun shrugged.

“Future life partner?” Sungjong repeated the last few words with a hiss under his breath, completely aghast. “Have you forgotten your mission? Mr. Kim and my brother would not be pleased!”

“On the contrary, dear Sungjong, this was the exact result they hoped to achieve. With Hyunmi as my lover, it would be much easier to accomplish this task,” Woohyun rebutted him.

Sungjong frowned. “I do not understand, Mr. Woohyun. I can hardly tell where your allegiance lies.”

Woohyun provided a vague smile, one that concealed his true emotions despite the genuine elation he had displayed minutes prior.

“I am more interested in another issue, Sungjong. You are a spoiled brat who prioritizes himself above others and seek shelter in your comfort zone—”

Sungjong’s gaze hardened with dismay.

“—And yet you put yourself up for danger by setting foot out in the rainstorm last night. Tell me, what compelled you to do so?”

The young man pressed his lips together, wondering how he came to engage in such a foolish and dangerous act. It was, indeed, unlike his usual self. Ah, but of course.

“It was that dunce. The harlot. She provoked me by calling me a coward. My blood boiled, and I wanted to correct her ill opinions of me. She stood witness as I displayed my capabilities to perform a brave act,” he explained, his fingers forming a trembling fist.

“Well,” Woohyun smiled as he turned to fluff his pillow, not at all surprised at this outcome. “Why should you still wonder where my allegiance lies? The answer is clear, isn’t it? Now go on, my beloved insists I rest to recover.”

Sungjong resisted the urge to take a pillow and propel against his elder. As he left Woohyun to sink into the bed, Sungjong strode toward the door while Woohyun’s words resonated in his mind.

Being noble men, they had been exposed to two different worlds. One was inhabited by aristocrats who saw a flaw as a deficit, yet chose to cover it up through pretentious goodness. Whereas in the world inhabited by the low ranked pariahs, the same flaws were challenged to resurge an improved character.

Sungjong’s logic refused to accept what his heart came to understand. Woohyun’s continual decision reflected what Sungjong managed to choose last night.

The latter.


	20. Affection

There was a season for everything; a season for recovery, a season for departure, and a season for loving. At the Jang residence, it seemed multiple seasons invaded all at once like a mighty storm. Everyone recovered from the numbing fever, but to two particular individuals, the fever came in the form of overwhelming emotions.

The most common acts were viewed through a new perspective and triggered a different resurgence. As Hyunmi sat at the dining table with a fountain pen kneaded between her fingers, she found herself unable to craft a letter for Rika. This disturbance was courtesy of Woohyun’s awestruck staring.

“Would it be possible for you to look elsewhere?” She asked him.

Woohyun sat at the corner of the dining table, leaning the side of his head against his hand. His eyes penetrated his most focused and loving gaze right into her soul. For the past few minutes, he remained in silent solitude, smiling to himself with contentment.

“You ask for the impossible, my love. Why should my eyes reek elsewhere when the person of beauty and splendor is seated in front of me?”

Hyunmi fought the urge to mirror the tilt of his curved lips, resisting from melting at his words. She had always thought of him as beguiling, but only after the confession, had she learned of his bolder side. The man could barely survive a minute without elevating her self worth.

“It is nearly impossible to concentrate when you regard me in such a manner,” she found the resolve to defend herself.

“Hm? What manner do you speak of?”

Hyunmi bit her lower lip and quickly returned her eyes towards her half written letter. “The manner which deludes an idea of you wanting to kiss me,” she mumbled under her breath, feeling her cheeks redden at the thought alone.

“Ah, and here I was, thinking you would not have noticed my intention. I very much would like to do so, Hyunmi. Would you allow me?” He grinned impishly, enjoying her coy reactions.

“No.”

Woohyun defied her reply and drew his chair against hers. He leaned his body forward, smiled when the floral fragrance entered his olfactory sense, and stopped mere inches in front of her lips.

“As your lover, I presume I no longer have the need for your permission to do as I please,” he whispered, the soft air tickling her lips.

Hyunmi drew in her breath, her heart racing at the impact of his words, triggering the memories of their kiss. She tried to keep her eyes on his, but failed to do so when they trailed toward his lips instead. Would they feel as warm as they had the first time? She wished to entertain herself with answers, and fluttered her eyes shut in anticipation.

His strong hand touched the side of her cheek, tilting her face closer toward himself as he leaned in closer. A beautiful reenactment of their first kiss would’ve happened if a sudden coughing hadn’t erupted. The two halted, looking sideways to find their fellow residents staring back with wide, conspicuous grins.

It turned out that Sungjong wasn’t one to keep secrets to himself and announced his discovery to the others before his departure. Therefore, the entire house anticipated to witness the affection for themselves.

“Jineul, you owe me and Daeyeol a farthing,” Jangjun said, holding his hand out to the girl.

“I owe you nothing! They didn’t kiss,” Jineul insisted, slapping his hand away.

“Only because you interrupted it,” Jangjun argued.

“What’s this? Did you wager on me and Hyunmi kissing?” Woohyun asked, staring at them with disbelief.

“Yes,” they answered, unashamed.

“That is ridiculous!” Hyunmi shouted out of embarrassment. “I did not raise you to start gambling on the basis of other people’s private lives. We refuse to entertain such—”

Woohyun turned to place a chaste peck on her cheek. “Jineul, you owe the boys a farthing.”

The girl groaned with obvious displease, and retrieved two bronze coins from her pocket. “I detest you, Mr. Nam.”

“I shan’t have a problem with it as long as your beloved mother adores me,” Woohyun sang.

Hyunmi narrowed her eyes. His amicable quality was as charming as it was the cause of her vexation all at once. In the manner she wished to rebuke and scold him, she also wished to kiss him.

“This is wonderful!” Donghyun suddenly chimed, running to place his tiny arms around them, one on Hyunmi and the other on Woohyun. “You may now get married, and I shall have a brother or a sister!”

His innocent wish prevented a logical response from being spoken out loud. Clearly, the little boy had limited knowledge regarding a relationship, and had only been taught of the ideal family.

“Nay! I won’t allow it. Isn’t it enough to stab a proverbial sword through my fragile heart? Now you speak of marriage?” Youngtaek lamented, dramatically placing his hand over his head. “Hyunmi loathes marriages. She won’t agree to such union with…” He looked at Woohyun, stopping himself from cussing at the man who had saved his life during the stormy night. “With Mr. Nam.”

“None of you are sybils. I wish to live in the present. There are greater catastrophic issues at hand today whereas calamity will have its portion again on the morrow,” Hyunmi said, returning to the letter.

“Issue?” Dongwoo asked, taking a seat next to her.

Soon enough, the others occupied the empty seats at the table. Sungyoon distributed a slice of bread for everyone, passing out the infinite supply of jam Woohyun had purchased before.

“The house,” Hyunmi answered her brother, glancing sideways to watch Woohyun take Donghyun on his lap. Then he aided the little boy, giving verbal instructions to smear his bread with jam, even complimenting him for his smallest accomplishments. The sight melted the loathing from her heart in a manner which conflicted her emotions.

Considering their new relationship, had he changed his intention of obtaining the house? Perhaps. However, Sunggyu and Sungyeol would not easily forget their pursuit—especially Sungyeol who now owned a secret of her crime. No one knew about Daeyeol’s true origin but the thief who robbed the child from his parents herself.

Her clouded thoughts were interrupted as Dongwoo grabbed her fingers, giving her a light squeeze of reassurance. “Everything fine,” he said.

She forced a smile, wishing to possess the same optimism her brother courageously wore as his armor. Perhaps she could draw strength from his exuberant energy, and allow his unshakable faith to reign over her fears instead.

“Mayhap we could go for a walk. We haven’t visited the market for quite a while,” Woohyun spoke near her ears, drawing a hand against her lower back to cause a small flinch. Her reactions always made him chuckle, despite their shared kiss, every touch reignited the reminiscence of their first time.

“Let me finish crafting my epistle,” she said, adding another paragraph before signing it off using her signature. She perused the entire letter and nodded approvingly to herself. All the while, she was aware of Woohyun’s gaze on her.

“Why do you stare at me in that manner again?”

“Because you are undoubtedly a treasure worth the afflictions I faced and will face; I do not wish to waste precious seconds looking at anyone but you.”

Apparently, Woohyun chose not to filter his words nor volume in front of an audience. The very same words that made Hyunmi melt caused Jangjun and Daeyeol to choke on their own saliva, triggered Youngtaek and Jineul to nearly slap him, and drew the rest into a fit of laughter.

“I am utterly disgusted,” Jineul mumbled, shoving her plate away. “I have lost my appetite.”

Her loathing was an opportunity for Joochan stretch his arm towards her half eaten slice of bread, and placed it on his own plate. An innocent expression accompanied his act of breakfast theft. In many ways, the melancholic boy bore many hidden sides to him.

As chaos ensued soon afterwards, Dongwoo laughed along. He observed everyone’s expression, extracting the core of their joy that stemmed off of Woohyun, his presence, and his words. Dongwoo was a good judge of character, recognizing Woohyun as a man of good character ever since their first meeting at the market.

If there was anyone he could trust his little sister with, it would be with him.

***

Having the entire household make a tour towards the market was an occasion as rare as snow falling during the warmth of July. As Woohyun and Hyunmi led the way upfront—their hands intimately entwined together—the perfect mirage of a warm household emerged to the onlookers.

“My mansion is down this road,” Woohyun suddenly retorted, pointing toward a distant pathway that seemed to lead toward the upper hill. It was concealed by trimmed bushes and elite statues, blockading their vision from the road he spoke of. The low ranked citizens knew not to trespass this elite part of town and have never spared the place a second look..

“Are we going to see your mansion, father?” Donghyun asked eagerly, jumping up and down in excitement.

“I have no objection against it,” Woohyun spoke, eyeing Hyunmi who had the authority to make a universal decision for the orphans.

“Perhaps some other time. We are not dressed for such a proper occasion,” Hyunmi answered, declining the suggestion.

The children eyed one another, studying the dull design of the desaturated brown clothes they had retrieved as a final resort. They had no privilege to care for fashion, and had been taught to select comfort over beauty.

“Regal attires are not required at the mansion. I recall telling you how beautiful you would look even if you had appeared in a worn out rag with ash smeared all over your face.” Woohyun turned to Hyunmi, echoing his words during their first ball together.

The same look of surprise settled on her face, though this time, it was accompanied by a red blush. “On that day, I suspected your intention to charm me through empty words.”

“You have correctly assumed my intention, but my words for you will always be genuine. I suppose a part of me had always craved for your attention and desired the wholesomeness of your heart,” Woohyun said, smiling at her with such affection he no longer had to restrain. Had they been alone, he would wish for nothing more than to cradle her in his arms, and plant soft kisses against the temple of her head and then her soft lips. Realizing his thoughts had wandered elsewhere, he drew a breath.

“Where is this supposedly enormous mansion of yours?” Youngtaek interrupted, clearing his throat a little. He had the juxtaposing need of wanting to separate the couple, but decided against better judgements not to make Hyunmi waste a tear for his treachery. For now, Youngtaek had to keep a close watch over Woohyun, ensuring this noble sacrifice would be worthwhile.

“If you follow this path, my mansion is located at the very end of it. It is easily recognizable by the cream colored marble pillars decorating the front,” Woohyun spoke. He wished to extend the invitation once again, but did not intend to burden his lover with unnecessary pressure. Perhaps she had other reasons to reject him.

“Go next time,” Dongwoo agreed they should come better prepared.

“Would your parents so willingly welcome us into the mansion, Mr. Nam?” Daeyeol suddenly asked.

“It shan’t matter. My house has been empty since I took residence at your place,” Woohyun answered, a bitter smile tugging his lips.

“Surely there are servants?” Sungyoon answered quizzically.

“They have been dismissed except for one or two people. There ain’t a lot of work to tend to when the masters are away,” Woohyun spoke, shrugging his shoulder to pass on the casualty of the sombre topic.

That one sentence managed to induce provoking thoughts Hyunmi couldn’t help but evoke. First, Woohyun referred to himself and his parents as ‘masters,’ placing the low servants at a rank inferior to himself. Second, Woohyun was denied the slightest bit of affection during the time of his parents’ absence. It was in that sense he had easily considered the orphans to be his home.

Pondering upon such thoughts made her insides warm with elation, but also fearful of the unknown future. Kissing him and pursuing their relationship may have been a mistake, but should the exact same scene be presented to her again, she would choose to never be right.

“Come now, let’s go to the market. We must still deliver the epistle to Rika,” Jangjun’s loud voice ceased the interrogation session, and with it, Hyunmi’s conflicting thought. Of course, he had been more than eager to be nearer to the love of his life, even if it was only through the means of a letter.

However, Sungyoon proved his swift agility when he retrieved the letter from Jangjun’s hand, and waved it between his fingers. “I believe that shall be my duty. I am much faster than you ever will be.”

Jangjun scowled, knowing it was true. No one was quicker on their feet, or more nimble with their fingers than Sungyoon. For that reason, he had always been tasked to purchase their daily necessities at the market.

“Fine,” Jangjun said in defeat.

“Do not take long. I trust you know where to find us once you have finished your task,” Daeyeol reminded.

“Certainly,” Sungyoon turned on his heel and winked. “I simply have to trail after the noisiest part of town. Jangjun’s yelling is impossible to miss.”

As if to prove his point, Jangjun shouted a few words of protest, almost solving the enigma of his lost energy. Since the day of Rika’s departure, he had grown solemn and sombre, a highly unusual trait for the loud and vibrant young man he was known for. Fortunately, they saw glimpses of the old Jangjun.

However, their relief was short lived. The joyful smile on their faces contorted to a frozen hinge once they entered the crowded part of the marketplace. People were staring. People were talking. People were condemning. Worst of all, people were not discreet about it.

“Why is Mr. Nam walking among the lunatics? Has he lost his mind?”

“Has he no fear of catching the plague? It could transfer to him if he inhales the same air as those wretched beggars.”

“What spell has that undesirable hag enchanted him with to walk on the tightrope for a man his status?”

Woohyun kept a stoic expression, absorbing the filthy rumors people began spreading. Being among the orphans for months, Woohyun forgot that the notorious reputation of the Jang siblings preceded his own. Hyunmi was the foul mouthed pariah who never conformed to her status, Dongwoo was the mentally ill lunatic with speaking deficiencies, while he himself was the wealthiest man in town. They were, indeed, an unlikely pair as rare as the sun and the moon fleeting across the sky at the same time.

Feeling the soft touch of Hyunmi’s hand about to slip away, he held tighter instead. He refused to entertain those nonsensical thoughts, wishing it wouldn’t tarnish their beautiful union. He was willing to ignore those vicious beliefs, allowing those mouths to run loose as long as he knew the truth about his beloved.

“Nay, I believe she is a prostitute hired to entertain him,” a man with a rather short stature spoke, his artificial golden tooth gleamed behind his crooked grin. He stood behind a stall selling an assortment of luxurious jewelries. “Mayhap she is an exceptional performer at night, worth toying with in order to cast satisfy certain desires. At least she’s be worth something despite having a sinful lunatic brother.”

Now that, he could not tolerate.

Woohyun released Hyunmi’s hands, and turned to the man who dared to speak those false accusations about his woman.

“Sir, you have a lot of nerves. Does it entertain you to spew rumors about strangers you barely know?” Woohyun asked, his malign intention hidden behind a benevolent tone. The smile on his face seemed too charming to do be harmful, but such was the facade he had learned to embellish by dealing with Sunggyu.

The man stared Woohyun up and down, sneering a mocking grin. “What does it matter to you?” He challenged back.

“Your ways of degrading my beloved is not welcomed in my sight. I cherish her with my entire life, and no inglorious sentences are allowed to be spoken about her or her family. The dire consequences for such a trespass may be lethal, sir.” Woohyun smiled in his usual elegance, abstained from the threat he had uttered.

The man scoffed a thunderous laugh instead and proceeded to challenge. “What shall the dire consequence be for my transgressions? You are a wealthy man, surely our matters are of no importance to your precious time.”

“Well, I could easily retract your permit of setting up a business here. Test me if you will, and I shall use my connections and wealth to personally see you suffer,” Woohyun chided, staring at the man with an anticipating grin. “If you ransom my beloved to be at stake, I won’t bestow any leniency.”

Hyunmi was both worried and mesmerized at the threat, wondering how Woohyun kept evoking such contradictory feelings within her. The sight of his agitation was a weird phenomenon, yet, knowing he had forgone his self control with the intention to protect her caused her heart to flutter.

She immediately walked over to Woohyun, pulled him by his arm, and shook her head to interrupt a fight from ensuing. An enraged man was capable of doing more damage than his consciousness permitted.

“You better listen to your harlot. Gotta make it worth your payment, am I right?” The man continued, disregarding the threat.

Jineul felt her hand twitching, wanting to pay the man for his aggravating words. Beside her, Youngtaek was just as impatient, holding back a slaughter only because Hyunmi had stopped Woohyun. Surely, she did not want an entire army to march forth. She was a blue collar woman, resourceful and independent on her own.

“Harlot, you said?” Hyunmi asked, eyeing the man with a scrutinizing gaze. Then she smiled, similar to the manner Woohyun had threatened the man earlier. “Tell me sir, do you have a daughter of your own?”

The man squinted his eyes. “Why should it matter?”

“Because the next time you spew such demeaning words to a woman, you must remember someone else may throw the same accusations towards your daughter. I suggest you to choose your words wisely. Your words today may determine the future of your loved ones tomorrow. We do not want your daughter to become a harlot now, do we?” She asked, and curtsied before him out of formality.

Woohyun stood by in amazement as she turned away from the man who had lost his abilities to speak. How could he have forgotten her fierceness that made him seek her out in the first place?

“You taught him well.” Jangjun’s eyes kept darting back to the man’s jewelry, wondering how a scumbag could be in possession of such high class items. The world could be unfair at times with the imbalance of their economy.

“I have newfound respect for you, mother,” Jineul said, slowly applauding. “I truly do not wish for anyone to experience the torture of a brothel.”

“Alas, my heart fills with pride to call you my mother,” Daeyeol said, patting her shoulder.

Hyunmi grinned, whisking her attention to Woohyun in silent search for his approval. The soft smile on his lips was all she needed, but he pulled her closer and softly pecked the side of her temple.

“When I thought I could hardly adore you more, you keep stirring my affection to grow tremendously,” he whispered. Having her close, he fought the urge of wanting to kiss her again.

Within their little family, they laughed and complimented each other. Outside the circle, however, judgemental eyes followed the misfit group in search for flaws. Despite being intimidated by the threat, their silence was ephemeral.

***

“Good afternoon,” Sungyoon called out to the mailman in charge at the post office. He passed two gossiping women queuing behind him.

“Good afternoon, Sungyoon. A letter for the Kim household?” The man behind the counter asked, having familiarize himself to Sungyoon’s frequent visits.

The room suddenly filled with small murmurs coming from the two ladies. Their face were fully coated with powder, and fancy jewelries hung around their neck. They must be aristocrat women.

His ears picked up the faint murmur of “Kim household,” “servant girl,” and “ruined” within a single sentence. His pulse quickened.

“Excuse me,” he found a sudden surge of courage. “Were you speaking of the Kim household?”

The women both tilted their head, regarding him with a scowl. Their thick red lips grimaced at the sight of a lowly life boy dressed in a simple brown coat in accordance to his rank. They were inwardly judging his worth to relay the news to.

“Are you acquainted to the Kim household’s servant girl?” The woman asked.

It did not occur to Sungyoon that the Kim may have numerous servant girls. “Yes, she is quite like a sister to me.”

The women winced more, making a face of disgust. “Peasant boy, you better warn your sister to stay away from Mr. Kim Myungsoo. She could never take Mrs. Kim Seulyi’s place with her low position. She ain’t a governor!.”

Sungyoon blinked in confusion. “I am not quite sure I understand.”

“That’s alright. You are uneducated and unable to comprehend these simple terms,” the other woman spoke, using a mocking tone that was supposed to be sympathizing.

Sungyoon clenched his fists, but maintained the smile on his face. These two ladies were fortunate not to bump into Youngtaek of Jineul in his stead.

“Rumors are spreading about your sister,” the other woman lowered her voice. She looked around, but never dared herself to lean closer, afraid to make contact with the peasant boy. “She aims to become Mr. Kim’s mistress.”

“What?” Sungyoon nearly yelled, in complete disbelief. He had heard plenty of rumors, some more ridiculous than the other. This, however, was a completely different matter. Rika couldn’t possibly try to seduce Mr. Kim when she had Jangjun. Then again, Jangjun’s affection had always been one sided.

“It is true. A friend of mine is friends with Mrs. Seulyi, and the poor woman has been lamenting over her husband’s unfaithfulness,” the woman continued spilling the entire story. She simply took pleasure in spreading rumors without knowing its credibility, believing it was a job well done.

Sungyoon grew pale, unwilling to believe what he had heard. Yet, he returned to the counter, requesting his letter to be returned. This was crucial. This needed a confirmation.

“Sir, may I borrow a pen and paper? I’d like to add some more details within the epistle,” He spoke in a rush.

This needed a visit to the Kim household.

 

Guys, I am so so sorrryy for not updating in so long.. I ahve lost my writing mood and haven't writen anything in a long time. These are chapters I had already written since months ago, but I keep forgetting to upload them. I will finish writing the story, but it might take longer than the original plan... Hopefully I'll be back in my writing game soon.. But for the meantime, I'm so sorry for delayingg >.<


	21. Gift

Some truths were better kept hidden in order to maintain order. Over the years, Sungyoon learned to refrain the exigency of relaying unreliable rumors to avoid unnecessary mayhem. His silence allowed him to divulge the truth and see what no other men saw with their eyes.

He was the first to notice Youngtaek’s unrequited feeling towards Hyunmi, one which reflected an admiration rather than infatuation. However, for the gusto of entertainment, he chose to keep the knowledge to himself.

Sungyoon noticed Joochan’s fingers tapping against solid surfaces at random intervals—a hankering which he suspected to be anxiety driven, but after careful studying, turned out to be a rendition of playing piano chords. The behavioral pattern conjured itself ever since their visit to the Kim mansion.

This ability allowed Sungyoon to envision the blooming chemistry between Woohyun and Hyunmi when everyone would consider the idea to be ironic. However, their eyes never failed to shimmer at the presence of the other, like butterflies attracted to a flower’s sweet nectar.

In such ways, Sungyoon pertained knowledge of various subjects. His need for harmony prevented odious speculations from being passed around. Today, that had not been the case.

“Rumors have been circulating regarding Rika,” he had relaid to Hyunmi, Woohyun, and Dongwoo. Glancing around, he ensured Jangjun’s absence before resuming. “People have reason to believe she is having an affair with Mr. Kim and aims to become his mistress.”

“That is ridiculous! Rika has Jangjun who lavishes her with more affection than a married man ever could,” Hyunmi censured, using the same argument Sungyoon had tried convincing himself with before realizing its fault.

“Alas, Jangjun is a mere friend to her,” Sungyoon said, seeing Hyunmi’s eyes widen with realization.

“Myungsoo is considered to be exceptionally handsome for a man, and I observed the adoring way Rika had regarded him upon our arrival,” Woohyun added, exhaling a long sigh. He gently squeezed Hyunmi’s hand in his, the touch becoming a pattern far too natural for them both. “I reckon this is an issue worth looking into.”

“I made arrangements and sent a letter to Rika announcing our arrival on the morrow,” Sungyoon said. “To maintain the detente, we must not relay this to Jangjun.”

“Too late,” a sudden voice resonated from behind. They had been too immersed in their thoughts to miss Jangjun creaking the door open. Based on the furious and restive look in his eyes, they knew he would not consent to any of their proposals to stay. Anger seeped through the forming wrinkles on his forehead. “I shall come along and I shall not accept a rejection. Any matter involving Rika shall involve me as well.”

Before Hyunmi could part her lips to reason with him, Woohyun gave an approving nod. “You may come with us.”

Jangjun nodded his head, uttering a small word of gratitude before excusing himself—the remnants of his thoughts reserved for his own solitude.

“Woohyun, why’d you grant him permission? If he sights an unfavorable event, his heart will be torn to pieces,” Hyunmi lamented, her tone a pitch higher to express her concern.

It took a lot of restraint for Woohyun not to smile at the manner she elicited his name, a beautiful melody from the tip of her tongue. It may have taken the form of a chide, but it was musical to him nonetheless.

“Because no person should learn to coexist with doubt. It could consume and deplete his mental state into depression, which we must prevent at all cost,” Woohyun reasoned. He returned to her side, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her against his chest—their close proximity allowed him to capture the heightened sound of her staggering breath. “My love, if I had to live in anguish of not knowing whether your heart belonged to me or another man, I would live miserably for the rest of my life.”

Hyunmi did not know whether his words or touch prompted the tumultuous beating of her heart, drumming like little raindrops pattering against the window. She poorly hid her smile, and opted to look away from his fervent gaze. In the company of Sungyoon and her brother, she was more cautious with her words.

“Fortunately, you have no need for such misery,” she said bashfully, tracing imaginary circles against his hand. What a traverse idea it was. She who did not want to marry indirectly admitted to giving him full custody of her heart.

Her implications were well received by Woohyun who grinned, pressing his forehead against hers. “Indeed, no other man precedes my ability to draw that beautiful smile on your pensive face.”

This made her chuckle, as he always managed to. She always found more joy whenever she was with him. “I presume the five of us shall leave tomorrow morning?”

“You may exempt me from the journey,” Sungyoon said, a small grin hovering over his lips. “Instead I ask for Joochan to take my place.”

“Joochan?” Dongwoo tilted his head sideways.

“He would want to play the piano once more considering he isn’t entitled to such privilege over here,” Sungyoon said, subtly hinting at the wisdom he had been granted with without revealing the full depth of his discoveries.

“That is a splendid idea! I shall go inform him,” Woohyun said, having taken on the fatherly role at the house. He nearly released his beloved’s hand, felt dubious about their forthcoming parting, and furtively chose to elongate the hold instead.

“I believe you have somewhere else to be,” Hyunmi reminded with a ludic smile.

“You make it quite impossible for me to leave, but I am not the man who shirks his duty. Adieu, my love.” He exaggerated a formal bow, then tipped off the imaginary hat on his head, and walked away.

As Hyunmi continued laughing, Dongwoo observed his sister. Whereas Sungyoon noticed the possibilities of tomorrow, Dongwoo saw the changes compared to yesterday. Undeniably, his sister had never shown such elation prior to her meeting with Woohyun.

***

The next morning, no one was surprised to see Jangjun already seated inside the coach. His fingers remained pressed together in an ascetic manner, a clear effort to stop himself from fidgeting with his blouse. The reunion with Rika had the possibility of drawing a different reaction depending on the truth—a notion he came to hate and anticipate at the same time.

Donghyun missed the solemness in his friend’s expression and waved his arms in excitement. Upon sighting Joochan in his usual calm demeanor—deprived from any emotion—the smile grew wider. “You must impress them with your musical talent, Joochan! Perhaps they’ll request your stay this time.”

The words curved Joochan’s lips into a sheepish shape, neither smiling nor frowning. The wealthy couple only desired Rika’s talent whereas his musical ability was considered a defect by the judgmental society. Being the obedient young man, he had the tendency to please elders. Thus, he complied to their request despite having no conviction in his own ability.

To Donghyun, he gave a curt nod. The he entered the coach and seated himself between Jangjun and Dongwoo. How would he face Rika who had been granted the opportunity he was rejected from?

Hyunmi waved her arms out of the coach and muttered tearful goodbyes until their house took on the size of tiny speckles. She positioned herself facing Jangjun who had been exceptionally quiet. It did not take her another second to understand his troubling dilemma. “Rumors aren’t called truth for a reason.”

Jangjun spared her a single glance, scoffing at her words. “They aren’t called lies for a reason either.”

The very fact Jangjun had chosen to talk back and deny Hyunmi’s wisdom by spreading his own beliefs showed the depth of which his faith had sunk. They knew he cherished Rika, but none realized how much her rejection would affect his character to change over time.

Instead of trying to inspirit him—which may end up being deflected—they chose to let him pummel in silence until the truth was confirmed.

***

Once the carriage arrived at the mansion, they were met by the sight of Rika opening the front porch. How unusual. This task was usually given to the head maid, not to a pupil.

“I have missed all of you tremendously!” Rika raised her voice, nearly toppling the small framed Hyunmi of her balance. She proceeded to hug Dongwoo and Joochan, then firmly shook Woohyun’s hand with a suggestive smile. When it was her turn to greet Jangjun, he never reciprocated her open arms and maintained the perilous look on his face.

“I haven’t seen you for weeks and you can’t spare me a single greeting? Would you prefer a formal handshake?” Rika asked, completely oblivious to his sullen demeanor. Apparently, his feelings for her wasn’t the only notion that went unnoticed.

“It hadn’t been long since your departure, and already you have forgotten me,” Jangjun spoke, the snarkiness imminent in his tone. His way of coping with anxiety was through retaliation.

Rika blinked, her mouth hung open in an awkward curve. “I haven’t had a clue what those words meant. You are Jangjun, my best friend.”

What she interpreted as words of comfort became proverbial knives protruding the poor boy’s aching heart. Once again, his relentless pursuit of her affection was reciprocated through their friendship.

Hyunmi noticed the strange atmosphere and quickly shifted to a distraction. “Where are Mr. And Mrs. Kim?”

“They have gone for a short trip and should return here shortly. But worry not, I have obtained their permission to welcome you in their stead,” Rika said, urging them to enter the mansion. Clearly they had been mistaken; she did not take on the role of a servant, but that of an owner.

“They must truly fancy you considering they entrusted the entire mansion in your care,” Woohyun remarked.

“Certainly, Mr. Nam. They adore me—well, perhaps Mr. Kim more so than Mrs. Kim. She does not seem quite fond of me at times.”

“But Mr. Kim does?” Jangjun couldn’t help but ask. His chagrin tone did not miss a beat.

“Oh, most certainly! I have never met a man who possesses a gentleman’s vice in the manner he does. He treats me with benign kindness and genuinely shows interest in my past. He even hired a world class painter to tutor me. My skills have certainly improved during my stay here. Would you like to see?”

She did not wait for a response and exuberantly led the march upstairs, never looking back to see whether the others followed her. She kept twirling on her feet, too enchanted by her thoughts to care for her safety.

“This marks the day where I can fulfil my long time wish. Allow me to paint my favorite newly formed couple together.”

“Have you been made aware of our union?” Woohyun asked, grinning at the culprit who had exposed them. Hyunmi opted for a duplicitous front, hiding their relation by abstaining herself from holding his hand. He did not know whom she was hiding from, but the attempts were endearing nonetheless.

“Certainly! I have predicted this outcome ever since the first letter you wrote mother, Mr. Nam,” Rika said, nudging Hyunmi’s arms with her elbow. “You must trust me more often. It appears I have the skills of a sybill.”

“Perhaps you could be a clairvoyant who paints the future,” Joochan suggested with slight sarcasm hidden underneath his composed tone. Rika laughed in oblivion—a trait too naive for her good—as they entered the library.

A blank canvas and oil painting had been stationed by the corner of the room. Clearly, she had been favored to the extend of being granted her own practice space.

“Joochan, would you like to play us a tune while I craft my next masterpiece? I miss listening to your music.” Rika pointed at the same out of tune piano, bearing authority to permit its usage. “As for mother and Mr. Nam, please take a seat here.”

They all exchanged a brief look of confusion, wondering how much truth the rumor contained. The ease in her role as a host was not an ordinary task conducted by a poor orphan girl taken in to be tutored. In Jangjun’s presence, they decided not to touch upon the subject and followed Rika’s buoyant instructions instead.

Joochan seated himself on the piano chair, conflicted in his stubborn emotion of wanting to put up a protest, yet delight in his long time yearning to play the piano. Why should he hone the very skill society rejected him with? He shut his eyes and exhaled deeply. The rich were not currently present to throw judgemental daggers at him.

“Play,” Dongwoo urged him, displaying a smile so genuine Joochan wouldn’t mind playing for a sole individual.

The musician’s fingers found his missing melody on the piano, enjoying the eerie contrast of the tuned and offtuned pitches. His hands moved with such ease, as if every chord were embedded in his memories, merely awaiting the appearance of a medium it could unleash into. He missed playing the piano, knowing he could’ve improved if the Kim had chosen to tutor him too. Alas, they had rejected him, and therefore his skill remained mediocre. Even as he played a desolate tune filled with numerous flaws and mistakes, no one seemed to find the unordinary. Perhaps they had come to expect such faults from his indecent skills. He had never been good enough and was denied the chance to be better.

Without realizing, his playing became slower and more somber, like the soul of his heart was crying out a plea for someone to notice. Many had called him talented, but none tried to polish this so called talent. It was like letting good milk go to waste until it reached the limit of its expiry date.

“I wish to use the washroom,” Jangjun suddenly declared, abruptly getting up from his seat.

“It is located on the far end of the left wing,” Rika spoke absentmindedly, her thoughts completely focused on the portrait. Not once had it occurred to her to accompany her long time best friend.

Jangjun had created an excuse to speak to her under private audience, but she denied his request once more. She never rejected on purpose, but her ignorance brought forth as much pain as a verbal refusal. To save himself from embarrassment, Jangjun exited the library by himself.

To others, this was the perfect opportunity to address the rumor.

“Rika, we have heard words on the street,” Hyunmi began, unsure where to start her tale with.

“Oh? A rumor about a talented female painter?” Rika questioned, pressing her lips on a proud smile.

“Well…”

“I am surprised my reputation has far preceded my actual abilities at this state. I am a nobody,” Rika giggled.

“Oh, you have made quite a reputation of yourself indeed. I reckon numerous people recognizes you now,” Woohyun spoke, which quickly earned a small jerk from his lover.

“Rika, rumors aren’t always true, and neither are they always flattering,” Hyunmi tried again. “The ones circulating around the town speaks of...”

“The existence of an indecent relationship between you and Mr. Kim. The town frames you as his little mistress,” Woohyun relaid when Hyunmi failed to speak, for once choosing not to embellish his words with sweet flatteries.

They carefully studied Rika’s expression, seeing fear rather than surprise. It almost seemed as if she had been aware of the rumor herself and was therefore deprived of her ability to be surprised by it.

“You love him?” Dongwoo questioned in regards of Mr. Kim.

“I…” Rika stammered, lowering her head toward the ground, her hand hanging loosely by her side. “I would not do anything to sabotage the relationship between Mr. and Mrs. Kim, but I shan’t lie. I do feel a kinship with Mr. Kim, and had we been born in the same social caste, perhaps I would fear no guilt for harboring such affections.”

“So it is true, then? You are besotted?” Hyunmi questioned, her heart silently praying for another denial to come forth from Rika’s mouth.

“I am,” the younger girl confessed instead. “He provided me what no other man has ever done, and grants me the kind of benevolence that society would rebuke him for. It would be foolish not to accept his kindness.”

Before Hyunmi could speak words of protest, Woohyun immediately rested his hand against her thigh, a move bearing a surprising power to silence her. Rika did not need accusations when she was aware of her transgressions. Hyunmi needed to calm down before resuming her speech, and Woohyun successfully helped her maintain her reputation as the younger girl’s confidant.

“Rika, a benevolent man does not equal a good man. Aren’t you aware of the saccharine pretenses of a man’s verisimilitude?” Woohyun asked, his tone a stark resemblance to the grim manner he regarded them with during their first encounter. “I do not justify Mr. Kim as a bad man—not at all. However, I do not wish for your affections to originate from a single act of kindness. That is not the foundation a relationship should be built on.”

Such reprimandation would offend its usual audience, but to Rika, it tugged her lips into a ghosting smile. “I thank you for the kind reminder, Mr. Nam, and it is for that reason I truly rejoice over your union with mother. However, do not disregard my feelings because I am young. I truly do cherish Mr. Kim.”

“Foolish sister!” It was Joochan who suddenly spoke, surprising the others with his sudden outburst. They winced when his fingers slapped the piano keys, creating a dissonant tune of terror. “You have been granted an opportunity not many are fortunate enough to be bestowed with, and yet you discard it over some petty feelings. If you came here to commit adultery by falling in love with a married man, the opportunity was better given to someone who truly wishes to learn.”

After his storm of speech, the usual melancholic Joochan strode out of the room. His words continued to pierce through the silent air.

“I go.” Dongwoo quickly followed after Joochan. He also needed to ensure Jangjun would not misinterpret Rika’s words, which he himself was also unsure of.

When only the three of them remained, Rika released the brush from her hand and broke down into a crying fit. Her tears poured endlessly down her paint stained cheek, dispersing into streams of yellow and red.

“Oh, Rika. We did not intend to barge on you and throw these accusations, let alone make you waste these precious tears.” Hyunmi took the younger girl in an embrace. “Our good intentions may not have reflected through today’s happening, but it does not change the fact that infidelity isn’t an exampleratory behavior.”

“I am aware of it,” Rika hissed through her sobs, rubbing the corner of her eyes using her sleeves. “However, I cannot command my heart to do what I wish it would. You understand me, don’t you mother? Despite your skepticism regarding Mr. Nam’s intention, your heart can’t deny its fatal attraction.”

“You have made a valid point, Rika,” Woohyun added on a lighter note, placing a hand on both girl’s shoulders. “Your heart may not be able to choose whom it falls in love with, but it may choose whom to stay in love with. You are a smart young woman, and I assume you know what decision to make.”

Rika nodded, her lips pressed together to the point it nearly blanched. “You have always been so wise, Mr. Nam. It is one of the many reasons why I wholeheartedly know you are perfect with our mother. You complement each other through your differences, and enhance the other through your similarities. You are my role models in many way, and I attempted to accentuate it through this painting.”

They had long forgotten the painting, only acknowledging its existence when Rika stepped aside to reveal a beautiful artwork. The subject on the painting was almost an exact replica of themselves, much firmer and realistic than the last time Rika had drawn them using pencil and paper. Her mastery over the oil medium was impressive considering she had only studied it for several weeks.

“I have fulfilled my promise to draw a portrait of my favorite couple together,” Rika then spoke, detaching the canvas from its easel and handing it to them. “In the same manner you have inspired me, I pray that your relationship may continue to become an inspiration toward others.”

***

Regret followed as soon as Joochan left the room. But his self pity was short lived upon realization that Jangjun had been standing in front of the door all along.

“Have you been listening?” Joochan asked hesitantly, biting his lips. Judging on the foul expression, Jangjun hardly missed the confession. Instead, he walked away with maddening strides, forcing Joochan to follow.

“I should’ve stopped her from setting foot upon this place. I should’ve been selfish and asked her to stay at home; to stay with me,” Jangjun grumbled, lamenting to himself for a more favorable scenario. “Even if she can’t learn to love me, at least she won’t love another.”

“Would you rather Rika won’t love anyone at all if she can’t love you?”

“I’d rather she fell in love with someone without earning the reputation of a mistress!” Jangjun barely controlled his volume, gritting through his teeth to convey his anger. With his fists clenched together, he replayed the conversation he had unwillingly overheard from outside the room. “I wish they had chosen to disciple you instead. At least you would be immune to Mr. Kim’s benevolence or handsome looks.”

The chiding made Joochan smile instead, placing an arm around his friend. “As do I, Jangjun. As do I.”

As they headed back to the library, they heard familiar voices coming from downstairs. An odd sight of Myungsoo and Dongwoo together took place, seemingly conversing of a topic they could not pick up on. Neither were concerned, only wondering when Myungsoo had returned from his short trip and why his wife, Seulyi, had been absent from his side.

Soon, they all reunited at the library, praising Rika’s skilled artwork. Jangjun lost his resolve whenever he sighted Rika staring at Myungsoo, the heartache unavoidable. Joochan buried his disappointment of not being offered another training, once again unaccepted. Whereas Hyunmi and Woohyun, as the pioneers of the younger ones, needed to relinquish the harmony that had been lost over a single visitation.

***

The day may not have gone as enchanted as they wish it would, and many returned home with greater disappointments instead. Not much could be done to amend the solemness following the news of Rika’s confession, and for days the house seemed to mourn along. However, little by little, a solution had a way of presenting itself through different forms during the most unexpected intervals.

Today, it came in the form of a piano.

“What?” Joochan exclaimed out loud, his eyes and jaw widened at the beautiful instrument sitting against the wall of their living room.

“It is a gift for you, Joochan,” Woohyun spoke, his face softening to display the dimples of his proud smile. He exchanged a furtive glance with Sungyoon who seemed to have taken a part in this impromptu decision to purchase a piano.

Joochan could hardly believe it. He turned to Hyunmi in search of treachery, but her grasp on reality came in the form of a small shrug, showing complete confidence in Woohyun.

“After hearing you play the other day, I am convinced you have been granted a musical gift. It would be a waste to let it remain dormant despite its tremendous potential of growth. You do not light a candle and hide it under a rock. Joochan, I want your light to shine,” Woohyun spoke with a voice of conviction. “I may not assist you in the way Myungsoo could, but I would willingly gift what my wealth can attain.”

Joochan had a difficult time believing such blissful outcomes and gave in to his skepticism. “Do you truly reckon I have the talent?”

“I am willing to wager my relationship with Hyunmi on it. I believe in you,” Woohyun said, ignoring his lover’s playful glare. She sneered beside him, proving her agreement with his words even at her own expense.

“Well, do not make us suffer through the anticipation. Play it, Joochan!” Donghyun eagerly shouted. He took Joochan by the hand, leading him to sit on the small piano bench.

Half of the household had never listened to Joochan play the piano. When his fingers became one with the piano keys again, it was as if they had been a single entity all along. His skills hardly needed any training for it evoked the kind of emotion not even the greatest maestros could accomplish.

As the tune carried them to an otherworldly experience of delight, Hyunmi wrapped her arms around Woohyun’s waist, looking up to meet his familiar brown eyes of comfort staring back at her, and smiled.

“Thank you,” she spoke, laying her head against his chest. The simple words contained her infinite amount of gratitude, relishing the fact that Woohyun never failed to come to their aid.

He replied by pressing a small peck against the top of her head, cradling her close in his arms as Joochan’s somber tune morphed into one filled with hope and optimism.

Hyunmi’s scrutiny and fear of her lover’s true intention was long forgotten, replaced by her relief of having encountered this wonderful aristocrat who seemed to truly love her against all odds.

For a man who so loved the orphans and cared for them as if they were his own family, she would abandon her doubts and choose to love him back.


	22. Offer

After appearing in public as a couple, scrutinizing judgements were bound to be part of the lover’s ordeal. No verbal words assaulted the sight, but silent eyes followed their every movement into the marketplace. When they temporarily departed, each in search of different stalls, Hyunmi became the subject of ridicule. It had always been her; the female and the pariah of the relationship, therefore the inferior one.

The citizens had never been keen of furtive exchanges, opting to openly tittle-tattle in front of her. The accusations and filthy name calling were amplified through their loud whispers, but Hyunmi neglected the expected. It was the cost she chose to bear when accepting Woohyun’s affection.

However, even as she gallivanted from stall to stall in search of some winter attire, several girls trailed her from behind. There were five of them, clothed in the attire of upper middle class women. The spark in their eyes conveyed their youthfulness, like nobility who had never experienced the harsh reality of their society. Their hushed whispers, mocking giggles, and finger pointing were hard to neglect to the point Hyunmi felt the need to obviate it.

“May I help you?” She turned to the girls with both hands on her hips. Her expression twisted in anticipation for more insults and creative name callings. She mentally prepared herself to retaliate their incoming attack without losing her unperturbed temper. Upon realizing she was older and supposedly wiser than these young girls, she felt committed to the responsibility to set a good example.

“We…” The girl with her hair in a ponytail got pushed forward by the others. They seemed to giggle among themselves and fiddled their fingers together before glancing up at Hyunmi. “We were wondering about the manner with which you managed to entice the wealthiest man of our town.”

Hyunmi blinked her eyes. Their movements and intonation were far too bashful to be offensive. This, she had not expected.

“Please impart your wisdom to us so we may become as you are,” the ponytail girl said, folding her hands together as she bowed her head in surrender. All at once, the other four girls mirrored her movements of submission.

The sight was incredibly ridiculous, and Hyunmi couldn’t help but wonder of their hidden intention. What may seem as a benevolent brevity during a fleeting moment may be duplicitous in the long term.

“Our mama tells us that in order to become a proper lady, one must first offer her hand to a wealthy man in marriage. Without a wealthy husband, we would be deliberated to forgo our comfort,” another girl with two pigtails spoke after a passing moment of silence. The others nodded along to assert the credibility of this statement.

Hyunmi swallowed, uncertain how to respond to this odd request. She pursed her lips together, pondering upon her next reply without frightening their delicate souls. “First and foremost, your beliefs are false. A rich husband does not guarantee comfort. In fact, it may accomplish quite the opposite. You’d be bound to your husband as his property, thus renouncing your freedom.”

“That is the manner our mama taught us,” the girl with braided hair spoke. Her eyes oozed with brimming awe, as if the absence of liberty was the perfect portrayal of a promising future.

“Nay, she taught you in accordance of society’s common belief, but I immensely disagree.” Hyunmi’s disdain towards the subject affirmed itself through a passionate—albeit aversive—speech. “Women are not property. We retain the wisdom to think for ourselves and concede to our own decisions. No man should ever embark the power to debacle us from emulating success.”

Instead of fending the girls off with her strong opinions regarding a woman’s worth, the five girls diligently nodded to every single one of her words. It encouraged Hyunmi to continue speaking as if she were announcing a revolutionary battle strategy.

“Are you not a property of Mr. Nam considering your union as a couple?” The pigtailed girl questioned.

The manner with which those toxic beliefs were planted into their system remorsefully saddened Hyunmi. “Mr. Nam neither treated me as an object nor undermined my value as a woman. Instead, I feel empowered when I am with him. He is the first man who accepts my strong opinions and doesn’t reprimand me for it. If you wish to find a suitable partner, search for someone who transforms you into a better person.”

How strange it was of her to encourage these girls to find themselves a good man when months ago, she would adverse their independence as a greater vice. She had her lover to blame for her reformed opinion. Woohyun always treated her as an equal and a partner, never obliterating her to become less. He had shown her the understanding she never dared to expect from anyone. What a formidable man he was, and to think he chose her to bestow his adoration to.

“You must truly love him. Your eyes shimmer like the glistening star in the night sky at every mention of him,” the ponytail girl remarked, and the girls giggled as if they discovered a close friend developing a crush.

“I… I do not… Do I?” Her poor denial turned into hesitance, making her cheeks flare up. Despite her brief acquaintance with these girls, the first emotion they correctly perused on her face was the manner she cherished Woohyun with.

“You certainly do!”

The girls’ teasing and enigmatic laughter made Hyunmi all the more embarrassed. She knew they had no ill intention at this point, faintly reminding her of the way Rika would’ve reacted had she stayed longer and discovered their relationship sooner.

“Ah, I suppose I have become the pleasant subject of your conversation?”

Hyunmi turned with a speed that mirrored the pace of her heartbeat. Woohyun had such an impeccable timing of making an entrance, curiously regarding her with an amused grin on his lips. In front of the giggling crowd, he put up a show by gently pecking the side of her head. A chorus of excited squeals followed afterwards.

“You must truly adore her!” The braided one remarked, hands clasped together against her chest.

“I do,” he brimmed proudly.

“What enticing traits does she posses that you are so fond of?” The ponytail girl asked.

Hyunmi never dared to ask this question herself, afraid they might wake up from this beautiful dream by revealing his true intention. Yet, she truly wanted to believe he delighted himself in this dream as much as she did.

“Would you accept my answer if I were to say I am fond of every single one of her qualities? I can’t seem to find a single flaw.” Woohyun skillfully made the girls giggle before they shook their head in protest. He hummed to himself, meeting Hyunmi’s eyes. She squinted them in a poor manner to seem aloof, failing to be surreptitious of her growing curiosity. Akin to an open book, she was easy to peruse at times.

“Her abhorrence toward the rich is a formidable trait; one I failed to dismiss from my own thought as I laid awake in bed after our first encounter. I have never met such a strong opinionated woman before, yet am strangely drawn to her. She didn’t favor me for my wealth, and blatantly despised me,” Woohyun spoke of their history. It had only been months since she spewed venomous words at him, but now she accepted all of his loving sonnets. She even allowed him to embrace her by the waist and pull her close in front of the audience. “Luckily, my charm was impossible to resist.”

“I assure you your charm barely affected my refined opinion of you,” Hyunmi said, leaning away from his all too comfortable graze.

“Truly? Lying in front of these girls would not make you a proper role model,” Woohyun chimed at her, grinning when her face contorted with realization.

“Whoever opposes the union between the different social classes is a fool! There is no greater pair in this entire town than the two of you,” the ponytail girl remarked, eyes dazzling in anticipation of an adventure of her own. “You are an inspiration to us all.”

This revelation went beyond Hyunmi’s expectation. She remained stiff in place, wondering what managed to prompt their sudden respect. While she struggled to find the answer, Woohyun waved the girls goodbye, wasting no second to wrap Hyunmi’s petite frame against him once more. The warmth and comfort from being close to her was a feeling he never wanted to part from.

“You would make a wonderful role model. These girls look up to you, and I do not doubt your ability to lecture them of a woman’s true worth,” he spoke, nestling his chin against the top of her head.

“You speak of a scenario too unattainable. I barely have the resources to start.” She laughed.

“You seem to forget I happen to be the wealthiest man in town,” Woohyun reminded her of his prestigious status. “I could purchase a building for you and renovate it into a school.”

Hyunmi watched with him a playful grin, tracing her finger around the edge of his coat’s button. “For a man who possesses so much wealth, you seem to be having a hard time acquiring a certain piece of land.”

He smiled in return, knowing the exact land she spoke of. “Do not challenge me, my love. You know I am quite fond of those.”

Hyunmi continued to laugh, releasing herself from his arms. Instead, he now laced his fingers around hers as they continued strolling through the market. They became quite exceptional at ignoring public’s opinion, feeling as if the world truly belonged to the two of them. Perhaps, behind the skeptical eyes of society, there lied a curious bystander in fascination to the changes taking place around them. Their union may become the foundation to bridge the missing understanding.

“This is perfect for Dongwoo,” Hyunmi suddenly exclaimed, stopping at the stall selling the winter attire she had been searching for. Her eyes rested on the deep emerald color of a scarf—one which she imagined would bring out the lively spark in Dongwoo’s eyes. She held the item between her fingers to test its soft texture.

Woohyun studied her small movements, the manner her eyes brightened at the thought of her brother, and the creases forming on her forehead afterward. Knowing she possessed the heart of a mother, Woohyun supposed she contemplated on buying a present for the rest of the orphans as well. Her main goal was to gift Dongwoo without neglecting the others. Such benevolence would make a suitable lecturer to many young girls who bore twisted perspectives of their self worth.

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt a soft texture pressed against his neck. He looked down to see Hyunmi holding a similar scarf as the one she had selected for Dongwoo, but rich blue in color. It triggered memories of the moment she had carefully wrapped a scarf around him in fear he’d get sick, and all at once, he was flooded by the desire to indulge in her affections for the rest of his existence.

“Do you like it?” She questioned.

“I like you.”

His bluntness halted Hyunmi in her tracks, promptly meeting his eyes only to level her gaze away afterwards. She pressed her lips together, trying to suppress her cheeks from blushing and her heart for racing quickly. Neither obeyed. She was mortified at her own inability to resist his forward remarks, and even more vexed for furtively taking delight in them.

“Therefore, I shall end up adoring every single one of your decisions,” he continued, curling his tone to a deep purr.

“What if I had chosen to reject you?”

“Either you possess a great resistance towards my charm—which you do not—or I shall have to retract my words and declare that to be the worst decision you are capable of making,” he spoke. The fear of the uncertainty had been there, but thankfully she bore the same affections for him as he did for her.

Hyunmi smiled in return. “Choosing you is a decision I won’t come to regret.”

The loving gaze in her eyes emitted a warmth which made Woohyun want to embrace and kiss her all over again. Her words continued to chime in his ears like church bells announcing a festive celebration.

After Hyunmi paid for the emerald green and rich blue scarfs, she continued striding ahead in embarrassment of her earlier confession. Woohyun quickly picked up the items she had looked at earlier and handed some paper bills to the merchant.

***

“What have you got there?” Hyunmi curiously questioned as they walked back to the house. They could easily mount a horse, but the growing excuse to elongate the time within each other’s company outdid all sorts of reasonings.

“A present,” Woohyun answered, eyeing the big bundle in his hand. Only after they arrived at the residence did he call everyone to assemble in the living room.

“What is it, father?” Donghyun had first given him the biggest hug he was capable of with his tiny arms, then turned to the mysterious bundle with widened eyes.

“Will it detonate?” Jineul asked skeptically.

“Hush! Do not speak of such dangers,” Hyunmi quickly told her. She watched with equal anticipation, wondering what item managed to catch Woohyun’s interest without her knowledge. Only when he unwrapped the cloth did she realize it was the winter attire she had silently selected for the children yet discarded in regards of their destitute financial situation. She had not expected him to make such observations, but he did, and he bought them all.

“Presents for us?” Youngtaek asked, his grin stretching the widest among them all. Then he remembered whom it was from, and maintained his obsolete, murderous face. “I suppose this is a form of bribery to win our favors. Showing off your wealth does not accomplish such petty caprice.”

“I was under the impression I no longer needed to win your favors ever since the moment I saved your life, Youngtaek,” Woohyun spoke with an amused lilt to his tone. The manner with which Youngtaek continued to try and antagonize him despite growing more tolerant of him each day was entertaining.

“He preaches the truth. You have no right to be harsh against him,” Jangjun nudged his friend, prompting him to completely remain silent.

“Beside, these are gifts from your beloved mother. To reject them would only shatter her heart. My dear, why don’t you hand the gifts out yourself? I do not know whom these mittens and scarfs belong to,” Woohyun smiled, reaching his hand out toward Hyunmi. Gently, he guided her in front of the winter wear bundle, seeing her smile grow in disbelief.

The children began to crowd around her, and the silent fascination erupted into a chaotic “I want this.” Woohyun took a few steps back, deciding to accompany Dongwoo. The elder had been eyeing the scene from behind, unusually silent, but bearing his characteristic child-like smile.

“Brother!” Hyunmi followed, handing Dongwoo a parcel of his own. “I have chosen this one for you.”

Dongwoo’s eyes widened and softened with the affection that could only be shared between the siblings. When he found the emerald colored scarf, he gasped, and wasted no second wrapping it around his neck. There was an immediate attachment, and he seemed to have no plans of taking it off. “Thank you,” he gave Hyunmi a small kiss on her cheek.

She smiled in response, then turned to Woohyun. “You should truly cease showing off your wealth.”

“And miss seeing this ethereal glow of joy on your face? I fear you are asking for the impossible,” Woohyun spoke with feigned surprise, which made her shoulder bounce with joy as a delighted laughter emitted from her mouth.

“Thank you,” she then whispered the two simple words, filled with a lifetime amount of gratitude. For him, she took out the blue scarf and wrapped it around his neck. He even bowed down a little to match the movements of the petite girl. “I may not have much to offer you, but accept this token of gratitude.”

“Oh, Hyunmi, you have offered me your heart. There is no greater gift than that,” Woohyun corrected her. He slid his arm behind her waist, and pulled her closer when the momentum begged for intimacy. Her breath hitched to a nervous stop, and her cheeks glowed a bright scarlet color. This was the perfect moment to kiss, had Dongwoo not been watching with big anticipating eyes. Even the orphans had grown silent, ready to spectate what they failed to witness before.

“Perhaps we should continue this furtive exchange some other time,” Woohyun then whispered into her ear, his breath tickling the side of her skin. She nodded with half embarrassment, separating herself from her lover to attend to the orphans again.

Woohyun returned to Dongwoo, expecting some sort of teasing to ensure. Instead, the elder inquired a question that was beyond his expectation.

“You love my sister?”

He turned abruptly. It was a question that would make many men tremble in fear. But to Woohyun, he felt his heart pace in a manner he couldn’t feign. Had it been true? He knew he cherished her greatly, but didn’t think of his feelings as love.

“That is quite a big statement, Dongwoo.”

“You love her?”

The playful glint in Dongwoo was eclipsed by a stern gaze, no longer hinting at amusing barters, but in search of the truth. Woohyun knew he could gain Dongwoo’s full trust if only he surrendered to his doubts. However, he couldn’t bring himself to lie for the sake of earning Dongwoo’s approval.

“Love is too powerful a statement to slur around carelessly. I do not wish to answer you recklessly without understanding the feeling it is supposed to reflect. Perhaps I already do love your sister, perhaps I am still learning to. However, do understand that I cherish her above all else, and I would do anything within my power to ensure her happiness,” Woohyun spoke, managing to keep his voice in a sotto voce. He stared back at Dongwoo, feeling a new pressure that liberated him at the same time. Would Dongwoo accept his honesty or disprove their affection?

To his surprise, Dongwoo’s lips curved into a smile.

“Come,” the elder gestured, leading the way to the corridor. The only person noticing their departure was Hyunmi, but the orphans kept her occupied for the moment.

The two men marched to the office which had once belonged to the head of the Jang family. The room remained unused most of the time, thus heightening the curiosity to know what laid behind the door. But of course, there was an element of surprise.

“Mr. Kim!” Woohyun rather blabbered than greeted. He was so stunned at the presence of the town’s most famous judge to the point he failed to properly give a firm a handshake.

“Please, take a seat,” Myungsoo gestured to the empty chair in front of the desk. He and Dongwoo sat opposite of him. “I suppose Mr. Jang has mentioned his intention for calling you?”

Woohyun scrunched his eyebrows, turning to Dongwoo who subtly shook his head. His hand continued making some enigmatic gestures, which Myungsoo had slight trouble deciphering. In the end, Dongwoo opted to take a paper from Myungsoo’s files, and faced it toward his sister’s lover.

Now Woohyun had no choice but to peruse the legal document, eyes scanning over words and paragraphs. At the revelation of each new sentence and condition, his chest began to constrict with disbelief. This couldn’t be.

“This is a contract to transfer the ownership of this house,” Woohyun said, looking up from the paper to the two men before him. There must’ve been a mistake, but the serene gleam on Dongwoo’s face told him otherwise.

“Mr. Jang came to me, elaborating his plan to transfer the ownership to a trusted confidant contingent upon an unfavorable situation. Now we know a woman is prohibited from owning a property, thus removing Miss Jang as its potential owner,” Myungsoo explained, flipping the legal document to its next page, one that required a signature from two different parties: its current and new owner.

“Mr. Jang wishes to transfer it to you.”

Woohyun was silent as Myungsoo offered him a fountain pen to write his signature with. He was completely frozen in place, not knowing what to do.

This was it. This was the reason for his initial stay at the house; to enter the lives of the orphans and become one of their own. Woohyun never failed his tasks, and always managed to succeed through his beguiling tactics. This contract would elevate Sunggyu’s opinion of him and open up new opportunities for him as an entrepreneur rather than a mere investor. It was everything he had ever dreamed of, many months ago.

“Why have you chosen me?” He questioned instead, the surprise still imminent on his face. Even his voice lost its usual elegance, overtaken by a sudden hesitance instead.

“You love Hyunmi,” Dongwoo simply answered.

“But, I have never declared it. I do not wish to give her false expectation when I can’t become what she expects of me. I—”

It was highly unusual for Woohyun to ramble on, as if he had been stripped of his ability to craft eloquent speeches. This newfound fear defined an entirely different emotion from the one he felt toward Sunggyu. In this situation, he was afraid of hurting or disappointing his loved one.

His worries dissipated a little at the sight of Dongwoo’s kind smile, the same friendliness he had seen in Hyunmi’s. Even without Dongwoo’s ability to articulate proper sentences, there was a connection of trust. The honesty in Woohyun’s prior answer must’ve evoked a solidity.

“I trust you,” the elder spoke, pointing at himself and then at Woohyun to further emphasize his point. He pushed the pen between Woohyun’s fingers to hold, and gave one affirmative nod.

“I…” Woohyun ran a hand through his hair, looking at the document with exhausted eyes. “May I request for some time? I do not wish to conclude to a rushed decision when the stake is this high.”

“You may,” Myungsoo spoke, retaining his formal business tone. “Everything regarding this exchange is written within the clause of the document. Should you agree to its terms and conditions, you may sign the paper at your earliest convenience.”

As Myungsoo got up to his feet, Woohyun and Dongwoo mirrored his movement, extending a hand to bid him farewell.

“Mr. Kim, will this exchange remain confidential among us?” Woohyun asked, not releasing Myungsoo’s hand until he had heard a satisfying answer.

“Why, certainly, Mr. Nam. I keep all information regarding my clients confidential,” Myungsoo spoke, retracting his hand to his side.

Woohyun could only pray for the trustworthiness of Myungsoo’s words. If Sunggyu and Sungyeol learned of his hesitance, they would surely discard him as a partner and friend. He needed time to weigh its pros and cons before reaching a definitive decision.

“Oh!” Myungsoo’s exclaim was out of character, quickly shifting Woohyun’s focus back to him. Towering by the door frame was none other than Daeyeol, who had probably been eavesdropping in secret.

“My apologies. Have I frightened you?” Daeyeol asked, the words coming across half sincere. The skepticism was clear through the thick tone of his sneer.

“Nay, you simply surprised me,” Myungsoo said, tilting his lips to a fleeting smile.

“You should knock first, Daeyeol. You could cause seizure with your monstrous height,” Woohyun told him with amusement.

“I apologize,” Daeyeol spoke with equal mischief, completely not minding the latter part of the speech.

“Daeyeol?” Myungsoo repeated the name, as if tasting the way it sounded on the tip of his tongue, testing its familiarity.

“Yes?” The tall boy responded.

“Nay, it is naught,” Myungsoo quickly spoke, turning to the rest. “It was a pleasure to be here and I hope to see you soon. Please send my regards to Miss Jang, and do extend my apologies for not being able to meet her.”

“Will do, Mr. Kim. Do send our regards to Rika as well. Have a safe travel,” Woohyun spoke.

The three men waved as Daeyeol stared a little longer before finally closing the door. Something about the manner with which Myungsoo regarded him was very unsettling, and he prayed to dear God it was simply a false felony.


	23. Revelation

No secret is truly hidden; a small breach could trace its path toward the truth. The amount of ample information in one’s possession was enough to gain access to other facts relating to it. Therefore, it was with great surprise when an unannounced guest knocked on the front door early morning.

Jangjun was the quickest to the door, hoping Rika made a surprise visit to declare her sully affections void. Instead, the person who appeared was the main cause of his sullen anger.

“Mr. Kim,” he muttered the name through gritted teeth, feeling his grip tighten around the door knob. He couldn’t help the lack of hospitality as he continued growling. “What business do you seek here?”

“I wish to speak to Miss Jang. Is she here?” Myungsoo asked, eyes hesitantly trailing toward the inner corridor of the house.

“Well, this house is property of Miss Jang and her brother. I see no reason other than your act of sheer folly to presume her absence,” Jangjun said, stressing his great apathy through his reply. If possible, he wished to find every fault with Myungsoo and pass on his discovery to Rika.

The disdainful response made Myungsoo raise an eyebrow, but he maintained the composure when Hyunmi sauntered her way to him. She must’ve heard the commotion.

“Mr. Kim? What a surprise,” Hyunmi spoke, her voice inflating with a nervous pitch. She had been made aware of his last visitation, though neither Dongwoo nor Woohyun provided its detail. The secrecy of their conversation made her weary, and she tried maintaining her calm by clutching the side of her dress.

“I deeply apologize for coming on such short notice, however, there is an issue of utmost urgency I wish to discuss with you,” Myungsoo spoke, his eyes restlessly scanning the surrounding.

“May I inquire to what it is in regard of?” She asked.

Myungsoo’s eyes fell on Jangjun who continued to keep a close ear to their conversation. “I prefer if we may speak in private. It is not something for the public to hear,” he whispered.

The urgency in his tone alerted Hyunmi’s understanding, and she welcomed him into the house, leading him to the office he was already familiar with.

“Oh, what sort of a snivelling greasehorn has entered our house? First he steals my woman from me, and now he intends to steal from Mr. Nam,” Jangjun loudly lamented, adding a dramatic flair to publicly humiliate the culprit. Having been in Youngtaek and Jineul’s company for too long, he learned an ample amount of rich vocabularies.

Luckily, none of it were heard by Myungsoo and Hyunmi who had isolated themselves in the privacy of the office room. They both sat on opposite ends of each other, meeting each other’s gaze with equal tension.

“I wish to speak regarding the orphan you have taken in, Daeyeol.”

Immediately, a sickening feeling twisted inside Hyunmi’s stomach. The judge couldn’t possibly have known about Daeyeol’s true identity, could he?

“When his name was mentioned during my previous visit, it brought a certain familiarity I may have encountered during my early years as a judge. Therefore, I inquired the help of my dear friend Lee Howon—who is also a police officer—to assist me in obtaining past cases regarding this certain name.”

Hyunmi’s fingers curled underneath the table, holding her dress in a manner it nearly ripped. Her breath may have hitched to a small pause.

“Upon further interrogation, he retrieved the file of a missing child. Nearly a decade ago, a family lost their son without a trace. They used their wealth to urge law enforcers to search for their son, to no avail. Their loss encouraged the family to adopt a young boy and fill in the missing child’s void. I believe you know this family. You’re even acquainted with the two sons of the family, Lee Sungyeol and Sungjong,” Myungsoo spoke, halting to gauge her reaction.

Hyunmi swallowed her saliva, daring herself to pose the next question. “And the missing child? Have you found him?”

“Why, indeed. You are well acquainted to him as well. It is Daeyeol! Or should I say, Lee Daeyeol?”

A barely audible gasp escaped her lips, one which would have remained silent had the room not been as quiet as a cemetary. She couldn’t meet Myungsoo’s eyes, or he would see the truth. Everything he spoke had been correct, but they did not know her side of the story.

“I have reasons to believe the young orphan may be the missing child. His features resembles that of his older brother, and their height is a genetic gift from their parents. In fact, I don’t doubt it. He is the missing child!”

Hyunmi wetted her lips before proceeding her speech in a hesitant tremor. “What do you intend to use this knowledge for?”

Myungsoo’s face cleared up with a certain pride, believing he was implementing a good cause. “Mr. Daeyeol will be reunited with his family, and his parents will resume full custody of their child.”

Yet another feeling sank her heart, and her fingers continued to clench tighter onto her dress. Myungsoo’s suggestion was the lawful solution, one she would protest against if she were a fugitive to her crime. A battle of morality fought off in her mind, determining her next course of action.

“Has it occured to you, Daeyeol may be happy in this place? That if given the choice, he would not want to return to his family? His brother, Mr. Sungyeol does not know how to treat a human being. Do you suppose I could relentlessly encourage Daeyeol to return to such an environment?”

Hyunmi allowed her emotions to overpower the rational thinking. She had planned to discuss the issue diplomatically, but her love toward Daeyeol prevented her from choosing any other scenario that did not involve his stay at the house.

Myungsoo looked struck, taken aback by her sudden outburst. The image was a stark contrast to the composed woman standing by Woohyun’s side during Seulyi’s party. He cleared his throat and shifted a little in his seat.

“Miss Jang, I understand your concerns for him. However, his biological parents have the right to take full custody of him. Now that he has been found, the Lee family will be notified, and further course of actions shall be taken based on their request.”

The judge was getting up on his feet, ready to tip his hat off as a formal farewell courtesy when Hyunmi gasped. It finally dawned upon her what this would all lead to.

“You’re planning to hold a court trial regarding this issue,” she whispered, but the words were loud enough for the judge to hear.

“It is the lawful thing to do, Miss Jang. And unless you want to cross my path, I suggest you to coher in a civilized manner,” Myungsoo spoke, smiling.

Hyunmi’s face was pale, nearly asphyxiated when words of protest were taken from her. She watched Myungsoo leave the room, and her state of desperation prevented her from uttering a proper farewell.

The judge did not seem to mind it, for someone else had taken the courtesy to show him to the door—someone who was more than enthusiastic to slam the door against his handsome face.

“The next time you plan to visit us, do bring Rika with you,” Jangjun told him with a low mumble of utter hatred. His fingers rested on the door handle, fidgeting a little at his request.

“That is a great idea. She deserves that much. I wished I would’ve thought of it sooner. Have a pleasant day, young man,” Myungsoo spoke, once again tipping his top hat as a formal courtesy. However, as he was about to set foot outside the front porch, Jangjun stopped him with a question he would hurt himself with.

“Tell me, Mr. Kim, you seem to treat Rika with a certain benevolence that exceeds the usual affection from the likes of you aristocats,” he began, twisting his fingers around the door knob to keep his thoughts occupied. “In what manner do you regard her as?”

“Why, Rika is an excellent student and a joy to be with. I very much enjoy her company,” Myungsoo answered.

To one who viewed the judge as a rival, Jangjun noticed the changing elation in his voice. It was the cadence when speaking of a loved one, further confirming his concerns.

“You must love her, I suppose?” Jangjun kept pushing, hoping the word bore a weight too powerful for one to simply admit to.

“I certainly do! I adore her,” Myungsoo spoke, letting the smile linger on his face. The fondness could be detected by his curving lips and softening gaze; he did not lie. “Now I must leave before problems ensue at home. My wife tend to scold me for being away too often. Good day, young man.”

Jangjun did not exert any energy in uttering a pretentious farewell. His entire mind was clouded by the one revelation he obtained today, courtesy of his own faults.

Rika loved Myungsoo, and he loved her too.

Even if Myungsoo was a married man, their era considered a married man sleeping with prostitutes the common norm. He was lawfully allowed to have as many mistresses as he wanted, and Rika would become one of them.

Jangjun’s fingers grabbed tighter unto the door knob like a proverbial anchor, hoping it would stop the itching between his fingers. He had repented from it. He hadn’t engaged in such activities ever since he had joined this household.

Yet, here he was, contemplating on an action that would bring temporary bliss, and permanent regret. He would go back to his old days—to the time when he made the biggest mistakes of his life.

***

Woohyun had been out with the others to run some errands, a common simpleton activity he had taken joy in. Listening to Jineul and Youngtaek bicker while trying to maintain the purity of Donghyun’s hearing added more purpose to his trip. He could hardly wait to relay the news to his beloved, feeling a newfound similarity they could both engage in.

By the time the house came into view and Myungsoo passed them by on a retreating carriage, panic sunk in Woohyun’s stomach. The judge had only visited recently. Despite his request to keep Dongwoo’s offer from Hyunmi’s knowledge, Woohyun did not have complete faith over the judge.

“Excuse me, children. I can’t waste another precious second away from your mother,” he told the rest as soon as they arrived home. His trained eloquence allowed him to withhold his true emotion. Through their awestruck and disgusted reactions, he managed to conceal the panic of his rigid movements. He sprinted upstairs to Hyunmi’s room, each step filled with raw desperation.

“My love,” he called out, readying his mind for a logical explanation regarding Dongwoo’s offer. He had not fully made up his mind yet, and pondered upon a solution that would satisfy both parties. However, when he opened the door, he never expected Hyunmi to react with swollen eyes as she idly sat on the side of her bed.

“Woohyun,” her voice was a soft whimper, a sonnet that penetrated his heart with woe. The strong and dependable woman was lost to this fragile girl drowned in her own tears.

He hesitated no second and approached her with quick steps, kneeling down in front. He grabbed her fidgeting hands, gently stroking her fingers until her rigid movements came to a halt.

“What made you so perturbed?” Woohyun asked, though knowing the reason may be himself.

She flinched and squeezed his fingers, releasing a new set of fresh tears. “I am a terrible human being undeserving of any relent. I have committed a crime too tragic to express, and I reckon it may have ruined the life of a dear one.”

Woohyun scrunched his eyebrows, attempting to piece together her words with the offer he had received from Dongwoo. It did not add up. Therefore, she must be speaking of a different case he pertained no knowledge of.

“Tell me, what troubles your mind, love?” He softly questioned in a manner he hoped would atone for her worries. He positioned himself on the empty space beside her, gently pulling her head to rest against his chest.

Hyunmi bit her lips, hesitant to relay the information. The sight unnerved him. He could hardly imagine an account too abysmal for her to speak forth.

“I shall not force you to utter words that disturbs your comfort. I want you to be well, my dear,” he continued showering her with comforting words, even placing a small peck on her forehead. The affectionate move made her inhale a sharp breath of air, her hands quickly finding his to hold onto.

“It seems I have misjudged the society with my negative prejudice,” she began, squeezing Woohyun’s fingers for strength. What she would confess was a crime she never meant to commit. “Years ago, I saw a small boy isolated by himself among a crowd of people and assumed his parents abandoned him. My faux pas lied in my desire to offer salvation, thus taking him in.”

Woohyun never left his gaze from her, watching the unsteady rising of her shoulders, the small quiver in her fingers, and the manner with which she shut her eyes in an attempt to escape reality. The story bore a certain familiarity he couldn’t quite decipher. No matter the wickedness of her revelation, he had already decided to become her safe haven.

“In my pursuit to regain Sungjong’s forgiveness, I went to see Mr. Sungyeol, and made an astute deduction. Mr. Sungyeol's lacked any moral consideration for Sungjong, thus alerting my suspicions of their true family tie. It simply does not exists! Sungjong is adopted.”

The rising volume of her voice and tone was followed by a short pause, both factors which heightened the panic in Woohyun’s heart. Nay, he couldn’t believe it, yet knew she spoke the truth. Sungyeol's despicable actions suddenly made more sense.

“However, he did not end his revelations. In fact, he told me the reason for adopting Sungjong was simply because he had lost his younger brother who had gone missing as a little boy.”

Woohyun knew his grip was loosening, but it took much more effort to process her story. He knew what its outcome would pertain to, yet hoped for a favorable twist to be uttered in this tale.

“Mr. Kim visited me prior to your arrival, announcing he had done a research regarding the case of the missing boy and managed to track his whereabouts to _this_ very place,” Hyunmi said, taking a deep breath at the same time as he did.

“It is Daeyeol, is it not?” Woohyun interrupted before she could reveal his name. Judging on her widened eyes, he must have deduced correctly.

“How did you find out?”

“Your recollection of the lost boy was a familiar retelling of Daeyeol’s past. Now that you have mentioned it, I do see an uncanny resemblance between Daeyeol and Sungyeol in terms of physical appearance. However, Daeyeol pertains better manners, courtesy to your teachings,” Woohyun uttered. Despite their current dilemma, he still took pride in the manner she looked at him with reverent awe and a tad of bashfulness. He simply enjoyed being the reason for her smile even amidst the storm. And the sooner they found a solution, the sooner she’d regain her true shine.

“That can’t possibly be all Myungsoo has to say after traversing such a distance. Tell me, what else has he said regarding this matter?” He continued.

“Mr. Kim will hold a court trial regarding the custody of Daeyeol, though no date has been set,” Hyunmi said, nearly losing the strength she had uphold. She stared at him with misty eyes, only mere seconds away from ending up in tears. “His parents wishes for him to rejoin the family.”

The truth began to sunk into Woohyun’s understanding as possible variations of the outcome played in his mind. But no matter the method or solution, it always led to an unfavorable result.

“I have no chance of winning this trial. We will lose our Daeyeol,” Hyunmi conveyed throughout her tears, grabbing unto the hem of his blazer and squeezing it between her trembling fingers. This battle had been lost before it had been fought.

The door swung open that moment, disregarding proper conduct or formality. It hit the wall with a thunderous sound, roaring as loud as the anger omitted from the wowful victims themselves. Daeyeol and Sungjong stood there, accompanied by Jineul who appeared equally devastated.

“I refuse!” Daeyeol shouted, his voice barely holding any conviction. He was a smart man who knew he had no power to outrule the law, yet continued making his inner yearnings known. “I would rather be hanged than move to a life of wealth! Wealth comes at a price not worth my essence.”

Sungjong had an entirely different reaction of his own. His face was blanched, paler than a person who had seen a dead man’s soul. He stumbled back in his steps, nearly tripping if Jineul hadn’t hold unto him. As devastated as Daeyeol was to learn of his family link with the Lee family, Sungjong was horrified to learn of his lack thereof.

“No wonder my brother loathes me. We never shared the same blood. Why should he care for the temporary replacement of his missing brother?” Sungjong soliloquised out loud. He turned to Daeyeol, scoffing under his breath. “Upon your return, I shall no longer be welcomed.”

The strength began to leave Sungjong’s body, and despite Jineul holding him by his arms, his legs crumbled to the wooden floor. The poor boy stared at the open space before him with a vast hollowness in his eyes; no longer recognizing his own identity when all had been a facade.

“What purpose does Sungjong bear upon his visit?” Woohyun immediately roared, casting a sideway glance towards his lover whom he wished to hold in his embrace. The manner with which she shut her eyes and bit her lips until it whitened was a clear indication of her guilty conscience. If only she hadn’t spoken up, neither Daeyeol nor Sungjong would know their true origin.

“He came to deliver a letter for you, Mr. Nam, insisting to personally hand it over,” Jineul answered with a slight strain in her voice. The girl never gave up trying to lift Sungjong back to his feet, but he seemed to have given up on rising beyond his fall.

“A task which I foolishly obeyed. Why shall I slave myself away for a person who never appreciated me? The tasks he has given me is akin to that of a laborer than a beloved family member,” Sungjong mumbled, not knowing how to express the differing emotions within him. He swung his arms in the air as he expressed his tragedy, then brought it to his side where it tremored in vexation.

Woohyun sighed, running a hand through his jet black hair as he began pacing away from the bed. He could hardly think of their family issues when his lover was required to stand at trial. A theft, no matter the nobility behind its intention, was still a crime nonetheless. Hyunmi’s actions would be seen as one that opposes the moral compass, thus resulting in a possible sentence. The Lees would regain lawful custody of their missing son. Truthfully, even for a person as savvy as Woohyun, he could hardly see a possibility at victory.

“We must maintain our calm. Panicking shall not solve our problem and should therefore be cast away from your mindset. We will find a solution,” Woohyun spoke, pressing his lips to smile a dilapidated resemblance. Sometimes, one had to speak words of confidence for it to shape into reality.

“Do you suppose your money could help us? You cannot buy me off my knowledge… Of this horrible truth that was better kept hidden under the rocks. Money means naught!” Sungjong yelled. His voice cracked. His jaws trembled. His eyes nearly drenched.

“I suppose you shan’t have much of it left hereafter. Do you reckon they’d let you stay when Daeyeol has returned?” Jineul asked, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. For a short second, it managed to provoke Sungjong’s sorrow into a different emotion altogether.

“What presumes you to derive such a ridiculous conclusion? My family resides _here_ ; I shan’t go anywhere,” Daeyeol insisted.

“Do you suppose the law shall allow your desires above their authority? I doubt you will be granted such freedom. I, a mere stranger to their family, am caged and embargoed of any free will,” Sungjong questioned, clenching his fist as he basked in his agony. “Oh, I shall be thrown out from my own house and shall rot away on the filthy pavement on the streets.”

“Hush, you deviant child! If you have no place to stay, I am certain mother would welcome you here. You often poison this place with your filthy presence anyway; might as well make it a daily occurrence,” Jineul spoke in her usual condescending tone, however, there was a strange sense of reconciliation in her words. Had she indirectly offered Sungjong a place of residency?

“There, we obtained one solution!” Woohyun spoke, lifting the corner of his lips into a hopeful smile. “Fear not. Sometimes, miracles take place the instant hope is torn asunder.”

“You are too optimistic at times, Woohyun,” Hyunmi spoke, getting up on her feet to take her place beside him. It was a trait she admired as much as she looked upon it with disdain. It lacked the empathy she needed, but offered encouragement beyond her expectancy.

“Ah, but I believe it is one my many qualities which allowed you to be fond of me, isn’t it so, Miss Jang?” Woohyun asked. He smiled in such a way that even her defeated smile turned to one of victory.

“I suppose.”

“You suppose? Well, if it wasn’t my charming disposition, perhaps it was my intoxicating kiss which you secretly craved more of,” Woohyun teased. But as he side glanced her, there seemed to be no denial this time round. The realization made his heart pound with a sudden expectation, surpassing the anxieties regarding the court trial.

“Well, we may discuss regarding this matter at a later time. Sungjong, Jineul and Daeyeol can escort you to the door. I apologize for not adhering to my duty as a host for now,” Woohyun spoke, more rushed than he intended. The diplomatic smile did not reveal his true reason for driving them away.

“Your perverted man! Simply admit you want us gone!” Jineul spoke with disgust.

“Considering your intelligence to make a correct deduction, do move along faster,” Woohyun jested, eager to see their reaction. They expressed their disgust by scrunching their entire face muscles, leaving the room slightly merrier than when they entered. In the same manner he solved their temporary worries, he wished to solve their long term ones as well.

“I have no intention to returning to a home where I don’t belong. Perhaps I shall put up a protest and stay right here!” Sungjong spoke, stomping his feet in the manner a spoiled child would throw a tantrum.

“Yes! You may sleep in my room. We can retrieve additional pillows for your comfort,” Daeyeol said, suddenly bonding over their shared loathing towards the Lee family.

Jineul simply rolled her eyes. “Mr. Nam, I shall leave the letter from Sungjong here,” she spoke, placing the familiar looking white envelope on the drawer in Hyunmi’s room. With it she eyed the couple in her vigorous condemning manner, shook her head, and left the room for her own safety.

Woohyun was far too astute to know what his lover truly required of him before she said a word. He turned on his heels toward her, rested both hands on the side of her face, and mushed her lips to a puckered mess of red. What an endearing sight it was. He held back his desire to kiss them.

“My love, it is not your fault. Do not blame yourself for the incidents of the past.”

“Woohyun, are you unaware of the severity of my actions?” Hyunmi raised her voice, bringing her hands to his, clenching so tightly in an attempt to push him away. She had committed a crime undeserving of his loving mercy. “I have taken away someone’s son!”

“And given him a family he would otherwise not have obtained,” Woohyun spoke, feeling her grip loosen. “If you manage to look beyond your own trespasses, you would see the tremendous blessing it has brought upon others.”

Hyunmi opened her mouth to retaliate, but for once, thought it better to surrender instead. She let out a small sigh, daring herself to outrule the lawful conduct of proper behavior. She embraced Woohyun, linked her fingers behind his back, and rested her head against his chest.

“Don’t worry, my love,” Woohyun softly pecked the top of her head. “I shall find a way to exonerate your name. I shan’t allow you to be at a place where I can no longer grace you with my presence.”

His words made her giggle, and oh, what a wonderous noise it was. Despite the changing seasons of the afflictions they faced, he took joy in his unchanging ability to make her laugh. It was a task he truly took pride in.

“You should rest. I need to leave,” he relented, feeling the heaviness in his heart from having to part with her. He held unto her fingers for as long as he could, slowly letting them slide away from his touch.

“Are you not going to grace me with your presence? I am afraid you have trespassed your own words,” Hyunmi spoke, a playful smile hanging on the corner of her lips. It soon reflected on Woohyun’s face who could barely hold back his own mirroring smile.

“Clever woman. I should make amendments and beg for your forgiveness. Perhaps a kiss would do?”

This earned him another laugh, one more genuine than the one before. “I believe you have another matter to attend to. We shall discuss this later,” she said, pushing him toward her door.

“Do keep your promise, my dear. It is a matter I would very much like to discuss with you,” Woohyun said, once again gesturing as if he tipped the invisible top hat from his head. With a final glance, he finally turned away.

Hyunmi closed the door behind him, pressing her back against it. With him gone, the smile stiffened on her face, soon morphing into the faltering line she kept hidden beneath. She wished to believe him, to put her entire trust in his words, but even a wealthy man can’t make alterations to the law. She had to prepare herself for the worst.

Her eyes glanced sideways, falling upon the letter addressed to Mr. Nam. Her curiosity surpassed the still small voice whispering for her to leave it alone, driving her toward the forbidden item.

Perhaps, the worst came sooner than expected in a manner they never foresaw.


	24. Departure

Some adversities were better kept concealed from public knowledge. However, the longer its containment, the greater one’s curiosity will be into breaching it. Such was the moral dilemma faced by Hyunmi whose eyes refused to reek away from the epistle begging to be perused. Her fingers touched the delicate texture of the paper, weakening her resolve to respect his privacy. No revelation bore a power so great it would tear her away from her beloved.

Hyunmi picked up the letter and gently opened the seal to read its content.

_Dear Mr. Nam,_

_We are tremendously impressed with your marvelous accomplishment. You have achieved what no one deemed possible and managed to acquire the land belonging to the Jangs. Your charms have deceived both siblings to fall for a genteel repertoire performed by yours truly. I commend the manner you immerse yourself in your role; only a money thirst orphan such as Miss Jang would fall for your sweet lies._

_Through Mr. Kim’s visitation, we are privy to the land’s transfer of ownership contract which you have signed. Renovation of the land shall commence in accordance to our original plan. You may evict the house at your earliest convenience and disavow your associations with those wretched beggars._

_Yours respectfully,_   
_Kim Sunggyu_

The absurdity of the letter’s contents numbed Hyunmi’s rational ability to think, thereby immobilizing the strength needed to discern the truth from a lie. Woohyun was an astounding performer; it was a fact she had always known of. However, had he performed a play on a grandiose scale? Had her affection been the stage for his act? Had she voluntarily victimized herself to his romance?

The epistle, short as it was, contained detrimental revelations she had been unaware of. What sort of ownership contract had been issued? Did Woohyun hold legal rights over their property? Could Mr. Kim’s visit be an aversion for another cause she had been unaware of?

The questions roamed wildly in her head, impossible to handle by remaining idle in her room. Her pulse quickened at a threatening rate, galloping at the same pace an ill thought conjured itself in her mind. With huffed breathings and heavy steps, she descended the stairs into the dining room to find the one person who could enlighten her confusion.

“Brother,” she called, swaying the letter in her hand. The alacrity of his smile dissipated into something more somber and anxious when seeing her expression. Hyunmi never meant to lash her anger unto her beloved brother, but the overwhelming storm of emotions caused her to slap the letter against the table, flinching Dongwoo in his seat. “Do you pertain any knowledge regarding a transfer of ownership contract involving Nam Woohyun?”

The bewilderment on his face returned to its jolly state; the oversized grin enough to deduce an answer from. “Yes! Yes! He sign?” Dongwoo asked, all too eager over the subject.

Hyunmi blinked her eyes, parting her lips to produce silence. So it had been true. Her brother transferred the rights to their land to a third party who happened to be her charlatan lover. Hadn’t that been the initial purpose of Woohyun’s residency all along?

“How could you be such a simpleton?” she asked, unaware of the tirade she was trapping him in. Many people had called him names to liken him to a fool, and it seemed she was no different.

“What is the matter?” Daeyeol asked, entering the kitchen with wide eyes. Others trailed behind him; Donghyun even took shelter behind Joochan. Without knowing the root of the problem, the newcomers felt the intensity in the atmosphere. They held their breaths, looking at the two siblings who so loved and cared for one another resume their fracas.

“This house is the final heirloom our parents left us with. How could you be insouciant enough to permit it to a third party?”

Dongwoo’s lips pursed into a wrinkled shape, staring at his sister with confusion. Hesitantly, with fiddling fingers and eyes too afraid to meet hers, he answered. “Woohyun not third party. Woohyun your lover.”

“Well,” Hyunmi snatched for breath, releasing it in one long stride before forcing a bitter smile upon her lips, “Perhaps my asinine behavior is one I regret.”

“What do you mean, mother?” Donghyun asked. Even the little boy sensed the oddity plaguing them. Under normal circumstances he would have run over to give her an embrace, however, his current fear prevented him from conducting such behavior.

Hyunmi didn’t fully grasp the chaos she had evoked with her outburst until she realized the orphans crowding and blocking the entrance of the room. There, standing at the very back amongst everyone else, was the subject of her quandary: Nam Woohyun. He stared at her with an unreadable expression, one she believed was supposed to portray obsolete desolation. Her renewed skepticism refused to believe in his perfidious act.

“It is a question I seek the answers to myself,” she spoke, holding the letter in her hand. She carefully watched Woohyun’s reaction, the manner his shoulders tensed and his eyes squinted in recognition. “This letter was written by Kim Sunggyu. Its content congratulates Nam Woohyun for obtaining rights over this land, and therefore has no reason to stay among us wretched beggars.”

Sungjong gasped from the side, recognizing the epistle as the one he was supposed to deliver. Before he could make amendments to the situation, Jineul shoved her hand in front of his mouth. She feared any foolish retaliation would only worsen the situation. This was no matter for them to get involved in.

“I have yet to peruse the letter. Do not accuse me of acts I have no recollections of,” Woohyun spoke, pressing his tone firmly. He marched forward, passing the orphans who parted sideways to let him through. He stopped before Hyunmi, towering over her petite frame.

“Read for yourself and try to retain your justice,” Hyunmi spoke harshly, the affection in her voice evidently gone.

Woohyun obeyed, picking the letter from her hand before he started reading the words. Whether it concealed the truth or unveiled a lie, no hint of emotion insinuated on his face. Deciphering his feelings became a riddle of its own. After passing seconds, he lowered the letter from his sight, setting his eyes on his lover instead. She never looked away, meeting his gaze with a passionate will to fight.

“Do you believe these words?” he asked.

“Do I have any reason not to believe in them?”

The way he looked at her after she spoke those words was one she would never forget. If one’s sadness and disappointment could be summarized in in one look, it would be portrayed through the solemn manner Woohyun regarded her with. It nearly resolved her anger, triggered her into an apology, and even made her think of kissing him instead. But nay, weren’t those the weapons of a manipulative charmer?

“I see,” Woohyun spoke, forcing a bitter smile that would haunt her dreams. “I did not think you’d have such little faith in me, Miss Jang.”

“Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Nam. I’d rather believe in logic than rely on the meekness of my heart.”

The little exchange bore a big implication they were both aware of. No longer did they refer to each other using terms of endearments, choosing to address using formal honorifics instead. They returned to being strangers; all memories believed to be false, all words rendered meaningless, and every kiss merely a brilliant performance.

“If such is the case, I assume you would no longer find consolation in my presence being here. If you want me gone, tell me to leave, and I will.”

Hyunmi recognized the familiarity of those words. He was cleverly using mind tricks to evoke their memories together. He spoke a similar line when inquiring permission to kiss her lips. Like a lovestruck fool she had allow him to do so. Now these words were repeated in the hope she’d permit his stay. But things had changed between now and then.

“Leave.”

Several gasps occurred amongst the orphans, including Dongwoo who so abruptly stood up from his chair it nearly stumbled backwards. This was an unforeseen situation no one had accounted for. It couldn’t be. The loving couple could not end in such a tragic manner.

“Very well, I shall respect your decision,” Woohyun said, stripped from any emotion in his rigid tone. He lessened their distance with the boldness he was no longer entitled to, and placed his hand against her cheek. She grazed her hand on top of his; whether it was to hold him or to push him away, he did not know, but he chose to savor the moment. “I truly apologize it had to come to this.”

Considering she never removed his hands, he received another surge of boldness, daringly placing a chaste kiss against the top of her forehead. Then he let go of her altogether, stepping backward while preserving the image of the foolish woman in his memory, and turned around never to return again.

“This can’t be,” Youngtaek was surprisingly the first one to put up a protest. “Hyunmi, have you gone mad? What is written in that devilish epistle for the two of you to behave so brazenly?”

“Read on your own account,” she spoke weakly, her voice barely sounding out the words for them to hear. She handed Youngtaek the letter, which everyone soon gathered at to peruse.

“What does it say?” Donghyun asked, tiptoeing on his feet to catch a glimpse of the contents. He was, however, unable to read as fast as the rest of them, and assumed a horror conclusion based on their growing frowns.

“This is nonsense! Mother, how could you believe any of this? It is written with the deliberation to manipulate you, can’t you see?” Jineul asked, nearly yelling in anger.

“You should have given Mr. Nam a chance to explain. None of these words can be trusted,” Joochan beckoned, his angered state stripping away his usual poetic tendencies.

“Mr. Kim Sunggyu is known for his deception! You can’t be deceived by him,” Sungjong added with guilt throbbing through his veins.

“I have observed Mr. Nam since the very first day and believe he has been genuine with you all along, mother,” even the quiet Sungyoon joined in.

Their complaints began to blend as one, and more and more voices began to condemn Hyunmi for what she had done. It only heightened her wary thoughts, breaking her down into a scream of frustration. The blaming died down at once.

“You accuse me of taking on the nefarious role. However, had he denied the accusations even once? Nay! Instead, he apologized! A righteous person has no need for apologies; those words are reserved for a sinner. Now tell me, is Woohyun any different from other aristocrats? His main purpose of coming here was to obtain the land, and he succeeded with my brother’s help. He has no reason to stay. He is a well-trained gal sneaker, and I am the fool for having fallen.”

Hyunmi halted her words, absorbing the confession she had made in front of everyone. Oh, how terribly she had fallen for the liar, indeed. Despite telling him to leave, there was a part of her wishing he would stay. Despite pushing him away, there was a part of her wishing he would hold her in his embrace once more. Despite loathing him for lying, there was a part of her wishing he would tell her he loved her too.

Some wishes, however, were never meant to come true.

***

“This is absurd. You must talk things out with her. I am certain it had been some misunderstanding,” Daeyeol said. After his failure to speak to Hyunmi, he opted to speak to Woohyun instead. The couple’s similarities, however, extended beyond their hatred for society’s norm. They were both equally stubborn.

“What good would it do? Once she has her mind set on a fact, she refuses to believe any other possibilities,” Woohyun spoke. He placed his dress shirts, blazers, and trousers into the empty space of his suitcase. If only the void in his heart could as easily be filled.

“But you have yet to try, Mr. Nam. Are you not willing to fight for your relationship?” Daeyeol insisted.

Woohyun slapped his luggage shut, turning to Daeyeol with an exhausted sigh. “It takes two people to maintain a relationship. I can’t be the sole fighter if she is unwilling to fight alongside me. Seeing the ease with which she believed the content of the letter proves she doesn’t consider me a person worth her endeavor.”

With it, Daeyeol was silenced. How could they have claimed to love one another when their pride refused to resolve a conflict? Unless, perhaps, the epistle did state the truth regarding Woohyun’s questionable motive.

“Did you really feign your adoration toward us?” Daeyeol broke their silence.

“What do you choose to believe?” Woohyun returned the question.

“I believe your earlier intention had been to claim the house for yourself. However, as time went by, you truly began to care about mother and us.”

Woohyun removed the luggage from his bed, turned to Daeyeol, and flashed him a faint smile buried beneath his frown.

“Thank you,” he whispered. And without confirming or denying Daeyeol’s statement, he moved to the bedroom entrance. He was less than surprised to see the rest of the orphans blocking his exit, Donghyun being especially assertive as he squeezed Woohyun using the entirety of his small body.

“You can’t leave, father! What will become of mother? She will cry herself to sleep each night,” Donghyun wailed, burying his tear ridden face against the elder’s stomach.

“I should have known. A wretched man like you does not deserve a woman as Hyunmi. I made the grave mistake of entrusting her to you,” Youngtaek spoke with a trembling voice. One could clearly see the poise he tried to maintain on his furious face, occasionally glancing at Woohyun to study his reaction. He was spewing hurtful words to garner a response of regret.

“Then I ask all of you to care for her in my stead,” Woohyun spoke, ruffling Donghyun’s hair before he parted from the little boy with a heavy heart. They continued uttering pleas beckoning him to stay and reconcile, but he had no plans of conceding to them. The one person whose words could alter his decision was the one who asked him to leave.

Hyunmi stood by the door, holding it open for him. In his state of fragility, Woohyun misread the language her body was communicating. She firmly enveloped her fingers together to stop herself from wanting to hold him and prevent his leave. She fixed her eyes toward the empty wall next to him, afraid to read the sadness in his eyes that would crumble her resolve. She detached any emotion from her face, concealing the pain inflicted by today’s afflictions. To Woohyun, he read it as indifference and the eagerness for his departure.

“I offer my sincerest gratitude for your kind hospitality during my stay here. The time has come for me to take my leave, and I shall bid my farewell to you all,” Woohyun said, offering them a polite nod. He turned to the orphans who looked at him as if he was about to make the biggest mistake in his life. Perhaps he was.

“You not stay?” Dongwoo asked quietly.

“Apologies, dear sir. I do not wish to add on to your pile of burdens. I reckon you have quite a lot of matters troubling your mind. If my absence can reduce such tribulations, then I’d be happy to take my leave.”

Dongwoo stared down in defeat, and Donghyun’s cries tormented the air behind him. He could not help but feel he had instigated this situation. Guilt clenched tightly unto his heart, squeezing whatever rationale he had left to defend himself otherwise. He genuinely thought the transfer of ownership would ease Hyunmi’s burdens—if something were to happen to him, she’d be secure with Woohyun. However, his goodwill brought unwanted disappointments and stirred a war.

He was a fool, indeed.

Finally Woohyun turned his gaze to Hyunmi, once again misreading her hesitance as that of absolute loathing.

“Miss Jang,” he called out, and it pained his heart to abstain the affectionate words he had spared for her alone. She abruptly looked up at him, as if awoken from a trance. If it was the last chance he got to speak to her, he needed to make it count. So he took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips to place a gentle and soft kiss against it for the final time. For a moment it seemed he had much to say; words which she anticipated to hear. In the end, he suppressed his thoughts into a formal adieu.

“I wish you well. Godspeed.”

Hyunmi watched him let go of her hand, meeting his eyes that anticipated her to retract her words. However, her pride refused to surrender to her heart’s desire. Without truly grasping the full situation or what their parting might entail, she simply nodded in acknowledgement.

“Godspeed, Mr. Nam.”

With it, the door closed between them, separating the two who belonged to different economic castes all along. They did not manage to rebel against the status quo, proving that the disparity between rich and the poor could never be deterred.

The orphans were devastated; some expressed their anguish in tears, some decided to throw a tantrum at Hyunmi for making a foolish decision, some were hoping to wake up from a bad dream, and others had no clue on how to cope with such an event.

For one person, however, it taught the truth regarding this so called concept of love. It merely existed for the sole purpose of hurting people. Having been hurt before and seeing his mother get hurt by this same notion, Jangjun could no longer stay still.

He returned to his old conflicts.

***

Jangjun found himself standing at the corner of the marketplace they usually frequented. It was around the time merchants packed their belongings, ready to head home and count their earnings. He lurked at the corner, eyeing a seller he was rather familiar with: the man with the golden artificial tooth who had insulted his mother. Oh, this familiarity was one Jangjun wished to forget.

The man recklessly threw his assortment of jewelries on the toppled empty bottle crate supposed to resemble a poorly constructed table. His reckless treatment contradicted the earlier care he displayed when attempting to make a sale. A lowly valued good would always remain in deficit no matter the luxurious treatment it may have received at some point.

However, the man ain’t the only person who could play such tricks.

“Good evening, sir,” Jangjun spoke as he approached the merchant. As his dazzling smile mesmerized the good old man, his hand skillfully retrieved a farthing from his pocket, dropping it soundlessly unto the floor.

“What do you want?” The man bellowed, gritting his teeth to further display his golden artificial tooth.

“It has come to my attention you may have dropped something. I suppose it belongs to you and would like to alert you before it is snatched by a bypasser,” Jangjun said, keeping his tone as mellow and kind as possible. His eyes, however, kept watch like a hawk waiting to strike.

“‘Tis mine,” the man said, hesitating no second to bend and pick up the coin he had never lost. It was a small exchange Jangjun was willing to make, for he would obtain something of greater value. Upon ensuring no eyes followed the trail of his movements, his fickle fingers hovered over the jewelries, snatching a golden necklace. Before the man looked up, Jangjun swiftly placed it in his pocket.

“Be careful next time, sir,” Jangjun spoke, curtsying a small nod. With a faint sense of accomplishment, he turned on his heel to weigh the victory in his pocket. Surely, the golden necklace hadn’t been his only reward for the day. The golden toothed man was certainly not the first of his victims.

The feeling of his kleptomanic tendencies brought forth a certain satisfaction he could not have gained elsewhere. Despite his inability to obtain Rika’s affection, he was capable of obtaining other tangible items. The cloying habit was one he could not assuage. Trouble beseeched him to find consolation in sinful pleasures.

“Jangjun,” a voice stopped him in his track.

The young man in question retained his calm, keeping his hands in his pocket to safeguard his stolen goods. He looked up to the intruder who recognized him, exhaling a breath when it turned out to be Sungyoon.

“Unusual meeting you here,” Jangjun spoke, altering his voice to sound calm and collected.

Sungyoon’s eyes briefly went to the hands in his pocket before directing his attention back to his friend. “I followed you here.”

The revelation set on a new set of panicked thudding against Jangjun’s chest. “For whatever reason do you see the need to trail after me in silence?”

“You have been awfully quiet after Mr. Nam’s departure, which seemed unlike your usual jolly character,” Sungyoon replied.

“Well, after discovering the woman I love is in love with a married man, followed by the unfolding scene of the two people I deeply care about drive asunder without a second glance, it’d be difficult to maintain my jolly character,” Jangjun spoke, a pained smile twisting his lips briefly.

“You know very well that is not what I was referring to,” Sungyoon spoke, approaching closer. He grabbed Jangjun’s wrist, exerting some force to pull his hands out of the pocket. Indeed, entangled between his fingers, were a variation of jewelries made out of different materials. Selling these items could earn them a fortune.

“What treason have you committed, Jangjun? Do you wish to become a convicted juvenile? You might be thrown in prison,” Sungyoon harshly whispered to his friend. He didn’t think Jangjun would retaliate by grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, nearly threatening him into submission.

“I shall go to prison if I am caught for my crimes. Now Sungyoon, do you wish to send me to prison? You are the only person pertaining knowledge of my shameful actions, and I do hope you shan’t alert mother about it.”

“You speak as if you plan on continuing your misdemeanor,” Sungyoon said.

“Perhaps I am. It is the only medicine to my broken soul. Do not stop me, Sungyoon. After my misfortunate rejection, don’t I at least deserve some happiness?” Jangjun questioned, his tone squeaking a pitch higher with trembling desperation.

“If your actions truly brought you happiness, you would delight in public revelations instead of shamefully concealing them,” Sungyoon spoke, pushing Jangjun’s arms away from himself. He tidied his outfit and cleared his throat. “That is enough fool’s play for a day. We should return home and figure out a way to return those stolen items.”

“Return them? I intend on keeping them!”

Sungyoon had been a great observer, and therefore knew Jangjun was in a rebellious state because of the recent events taking place. For now, arguing the case against him was as useless as convincing Hyunmi to beg Woohyun for his return.

“Let’s return to the house. I am certain mother would be worried sick about our disappearance,” Sungyoon spoke, nudging Jangjun by his arm to follow him.

“Disappearance? You didn’t tell her about my whereabouts?”

“If my hunch regarding your suspicions actions proved to be correct, which it was, I’d rather not add on to her burdens. I shall cover for you until you manage to return these items. Then we may pretend none of this ever happened.”

Despite Sungyoon’s disagreement regarding Jangjun’s acts, he still chose to cover for his friend’s sinful deeds. One’s logical judgement tend to be clouded and skewed during troubling times.

“Halt,” Sungyoon suddenly instructed.

Jangjun had no time to asses the situation, following Sungyoon who took cover behind a nearby wall. After a small peek, he recognized the two men strolling by wearing their fancy suits and luxurious top hats, perambulating through the streets with their supercilious attitude. They were none other than Kim Sunggyu and Lee Sungyeol.

“How fortunate this situation has worked out for us. I truly thought Woohyun had fallen for that woman, but we never should have doubted his utmost dedication in the role he plays. He is a great asset to me,” Sunggyu proudly bragged, not noticing the half hearted laugh Sungyeol contributed to the conversation.

“We need to seek him out and question him in regards of the contract. As far as my knowledge precedes, it is still in his possession. We can’t start the renovation of the house or evict those wretched orphans before he hands it over to me,” Sunggyu uttered the thoughts inside his mind out loud. After the absence of Sungyeol’s usual agreement, he finally noticed the odd dispirited look on his face. “Well, good fellow, what has gotten you so occupied to the extent of ignoring my importance?”

Sungyeol abruptly turned to his friend, offering a nervous chuckle. “Forgive me, Sunggyu. A recent unfortunate event has befallen my family, and I can’t seem to keep it away from my thoughts.”

“What unfortunate event do you speak of?” Sunggyu asked, squinting his eyes skeptically.

“Mr. Kim visited us several days ago. He made a shocking statement, declaring my missing brother as found,” Sungyeol said.

The lack of enthusiasm in his voice made Sunggyu doubt the credibility of his speech. He continued narrowing his eyes in a scrutinizing manner, analyzing for any hints of deceit. “Why is your attitude so sullen regarding this matter? Isn’t it a cause worthy of celebration?” he asked, testing for a reaction rather than wishing to obtain an answer.

“I had long believed him to be dead. With his sudden arrival in my life, I haven’t had a clue on what to do,” Sungyeol sighed, slumping his shoulders with his exhale. “The court hearing is scheduled to take place next week.”

“Hm, though I am not truly certain why this insignificant matter boggles your mind, perhaps it would put your thought at ease if we happen to find this brother of yours and settle the dispute ourselves,” Sunggyu spoke, a twisted smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “Surely Mr. Kim must have given you a name. Tell me, who is the pitiful boy?”

Sungyeol glanced at his friend for a brief second before returning his gaze to the floor. “It’s Daeyeol. Ironically, he is staying with Jang Hyunmi and her idiot brother.”

Jangjun and Sungyoon both held their hand over each other’s mouth, stopping the other from gasping too loud. Sungyeol had a brother who turned out to be Daeyeol. Before they had the time to process those facts, a court hearing was scheduled to take place. Was Daeyeol aware of this? Did Hyunmi know of this matter? Could it be a plausible cause for Woohyun’s departure?

“Well, that shall make for an enthralling scenario, don’t you think?” Sunggyu’s wicked tone haunted the air, his equally devious smirk only enhancing his diabolical plan. “I can hardly wait.”

Sungyeol did not respond afterwards, and both Jangjun and Sungyoon decided they had no business staying there. They made haste to return to the house, not realizing some jewelries may have had fallen out of his trench coat's pocket. Their main focus was to relay this new information.

“Mother! Daeyeol!” they both yelled in a chaotic mess as they banged the front door open. They ran inside, surprised to find everyone assembled at the living room. At the center of them all was Hyunmi, holding a letter with a golden wax seal. A golden seal could only indicate a letter written by a person with a high governing authority, which in this case referred to Kim Myungsoo.

“Take your seat,” Hyunmi said, her voice a calm mirage to the true worries bottled inside. “I have a confession to make.”

The two took their seat next to Joochan and Youngtaek, both eerily silent. Everyone must have sensed the seriousness in Hyunmi’s tone, knowing Woohyun’s departure had not been the cause of it this time. Her crooked attempt at a smile was a bad omen to what she had to say.

“Daeyeol’s family has been found, and they made an appeal to regain full custody over him,” Hyunmi began, letting her words sink in to the rest who were unable to articulate a proper response. “The court trial is scheduled to take place a week from now.”


	25. Trial

The days leading toward the trial proved to be more consternate than expected. Woohyun’s absence created an imminent void, both in their hearts, but also professionally. He was the only person with the resources to afford a lawyer. Without him, the case was guaranteed its debacle. Such had always been the case; victory belonged to the wealthier side.

The entire household arrived at court, expecting to have received a humane greeting the least. Their expectation towards society was too high a standard; a proper welcome they received none of.

“State your name and your reason of visit,” a man in a police officer uniform appeared before them. He seemed all too eager to chase them away, looking down at those he deemed unworthy of his attention.

“We are here regarding the case of Daeyeol,” Hyunmi said, holding the letter with the golden seal for him to see. As the officer narrowed his eyes, she amended her words. “The case of Lee Daeyeol.”

Daeyeol flinched at the name, and it was Donghyun who wrapped his tiny fingers around the elder in an attempt to calm him.

“Ah, right, the case of the missing child,” the officer spoke. He eyed the entire assembly of people, less than pleased to have a crowd. Upon sighting Jineul, he narrowed his eyes with scrutiny. “Will all of you be attending the trial?”

“Yes,” Hyunmi answered.

A sudden realization—unbeknown to the others—triggered a malicious smirk to creep over his face. “You may follow me. My name is officer Lee Howon. I shall be… _assisting_ this trial.”

The manner his grin seemed to grow deeper upon his emphasis stirred on a nauseating feeling. They were granted no other option but to follow him as he led them into the room of their trial.

The average sized space was nearly full with attendees they had never seen before. Some bore familiar faces, such as Kim Sunggyu, Lee Sungyeol, and Sungjong who sat next to an elderly couple. The pair kept throwing glances at Daeyeol, thus likening the possibilities of being his parents.

Hyunmi felt a pang of pain in her chest when her eyes sought the entire room, yet failed to find the one she had unconsciously been waiting for. Had her irrational behavior driven him away for an eternity? She stopped her mind from thinking about him when a greater matter was at stake. They had to fight for Daeyeol.

Howon led Hyunmi and Daeyeol to sit at the defendant's table in front, for they were considered the guilty party. When Dongwoo followed, Howon quickly held his hand up to maintain a reasonable distance, akin to a person frightened to catch a contaminated disease.

“This area is for the sane. I have been made aware of your lunacy and can therefore not allow your entrance. It would be favorable if you could exit the court and not spread your contagious disease around,” Hoya spoke.

Instead of feeling angered, Dongwoo protruded his lips and looked down with anguish. He pulled the emerald colored scarf higher to cover his nose, as if concealing his breathing could lessen this so called lunacy from being spread. Or perhaps, it was an attempt to hide himself from their condemnations.

“Are you insane, dear officer? My brother ain’t a lunatic. You had better watch your language,” Hyunmi spoke, glaring viciously at the man she wished to rip apart at the moment.

“Is that a threat, Miss? Do not forget you are the defendant today. Anything you say and do may be held against you during today’s trial. So please, I beg of you, do continue your threat for it shall enlighten my heart to see your downfall,” Howon continued, grinning maliciously at the woman who was in the minority. Seeing her silence of defeat surged a greater arrogance in him.

“We apologize, truly,” Daeyeol was quick to step in. He whispered calming words to Hyunmi, pulling her to their seat while bidding adieu to Dongwoo. The rest of the orphans took the elder in before another commotion ensued. A wise person knew which battles to fight and which ones to walk away from; this was the latter.

“I see Rika,” Jangjun noted, his eyes gazing to the seat on the opposite side of the room. His remark came out as a mere observation, lacking the excitement he usually held when sighting her presence. He did not even intend to approach and greet her.

“The judge leading this trial is Mr. Kim Myungsoo himself. Naturally, Mrs. Kim Seulyi and Rika would be present,” Sungyoon spoke.

“Huh, his wife and mistress. How appropriate,” Jangjun chided, the disconsolate frown sinking in his face. He looked away, wanting to ignore the person who pulverized his heart while having to endure the presence of the man he loathed the most.

The murmurs in the room turned quiet when Myungsoo appeared in the courtroom with his honorable black gown.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. We shall now institute the case regarding Lee Daeyeol, second legitimate child to Mr. Lee Wonyoung and Mrs. Kim Kyungok. In the year of 1841, Lee Daeyeol was reported missing. However, as reports indicated, Lee Daeyeol had been under the care of Jang Dongwoo and Jang Hyunmi this entire time,” Myungsoo spoke, looking up to meet Daeyeol’s eyes. “Is that correct?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Daeyeol spoke in a monotone voice, attempting to conceal the trembling.

“What events took place that led up to this union between Lee Daeyeol and yourself? Miss Jang Hyunmi, perhaps you would like to enlighten us with a brief account?” Myungsoo asked, maintaining the firm and neutral prosecutor’s voice.

Hyunmi gulped, feeling her hand begin to sweat under the table. The only person who knew of her true felony was Woohyun; not even Daeyeol knew of her involvement that had taken him away from his family. Yet, her moral as a law abiding citizen refused to spin a tale of lies to protect herself.

“Your Honor,” Hyunmi acknowledged as she got up from her seat. Her fingers started clutching her dress, a simple habit she had whenever anxieties reigned. “In the year of 1844, nearly twelve years ago, I saw a young boy abandoned in the street during a cold winter time. Believing he had been forsaken by his family, I offered him to stay at my place. He consented and has been with me ever since.”

“We would never forsake our child!” Mrs. Lee suddenly yelled from her seat, causing a dramatic yell through her raw desperation. “We thought he had been taken, and for years believed him to be dead. You had no right to take away our son! You are a criminal who deserves to be put behind bars!”

Her accusation perpetuated the intensity of Hyunmi’s crime and the deadly consequence available for her trespass.

Suddenly, Sunggyu got up from his seat, a smirk quickly flashing by before morphing into a stern frown. “She is a thief! A criminal! We must rid our town from evil doers! I say, put her behind bars!”

Unbelievable, Kim Sunggyu had the audacity to start a riot, unraveling a small matter into a chaotic mess. Soon, other citizens fell for his words, quickly standing up to throw similar demands to have her placed in jail. They may not have absorbed the actual detail of the incident, but simply wanted to belong to the winning majority of the lot.

Hyunmi glared at Sunggyu, seeing the devilish smirk reappear on his face. After his successful provocation, he calmly sat down in his seat and crossed his arms over the other, satisfied with the results. Oh, how she loathed him.

“Order!” Myungsoo called, hammering his gavel unto the hardwood to maintain his ruling. A stern gaze bore enough authority to settle everyone down, calming the uproar from worsening. He turned to Hyunmi, his usual emotionless gaze hinting at some sort of remorse.

“Under the clause of the child abduction law, under subjection one, a person commits an offense if, without lawful authority or reasonable excuse, he or she detains a child under the age of sixteen to remove him or her from the lawful control of any person entitled lawful custody over the child,” Myungsoo recited, and others began to grasp the meaning of his words. “Under such jurisdiction, the situation does not seem too favorable to our defendant. Miss Jang Hyunmi, would you like to call forth a witness or attorney to defend your case?”

Hyunmi looked taken aback, not having anyone of such disposition. “I don’t—”

“I volunteer to contribute my testimonies to the case,” a familiar voice appeared.

When all faces turned around, they saw Nam Woohyun making a grand entrance for himself. He walked down the aisle with confidence in each stride. He didn’t turn to the orphans who beamed at him as if they had been graced with the presence of a savior, neither did he look at Hyunmi to read the surprise and indifference on her face. His focus was solely on the judge.

Hyunmi felt her heart gallop with strenuous joy. It wasn’t for the fact that a savior had appeared, but rather, because the one she had sought after the entire time finally made himself present. She fought off every muscle to keep herself from smiling.

“Please state your name and relationship to the defendant,” Howon called.

“My name is Nam Woohyun and I was a resident at the Jang residence for several months. If you would be kind enough to spare several minutes of your valuable time to listen to my testimonies, I assure you it would prevent you from making a wrong decision that would haunt your moral conscience for all eternity.”

Myungsoo scoffed a little, being familiar with Woohyun’s eloquent way of speaking. He was looking forward to the testimony that could turn around the situation to the sibling’s favor. “Do speak, Mr. Nam Woohyun.”

“My sincerest gratitude, Your Honor.” Woohyun twirled a polite bow. He then turned to the Lees, maintaining the confidence as he approached their side of the room. “The year of 1841 was a time where child abandonment rate fluctuated above the norm. I have confirmed this fact through statistics which I could easily provide you if you’d be humble enough to request of me. It also happened to be the time where the death rate of children below the age of sixteen preceded the years prior to it.”

“Such numbers exists because of criminals like her!” Mrs. Lee shot, pointing an accusing finger at Hyunmi. Her anger protruded the veins on her neck, frightening onlookers with the possibility it might rip open.

“On the contrary, Mrs. Lee, I believe she has behaved righteously. During such a desolate time where a child’s life is at stake, the brisk decision to take him in rather than weighing society’s law against her may have saved Lee Daeyeol’s life. Had she been a second late, your son may have frozen to death. The question is, with all due respect,” Woohyun paused in front of the Lee family, “Where were _you_ during the time of the incident?”

Mrs. Lee flinched, staring horrified at Woohyun.

“What other matter has occupied your attention to the extent of letting your son wander out in solitude? Had it not been Hyunmi who found him, heavens know what may have become of him. Rather than pushing the blame to a person who took sole responsibility in nurturing and raising the child as her own, you should reflect and be ashamed of yourself as a parent,” Woohyun spoke, no longer using the usual elegance of his frivolous tone. Nay, this was a matter close to his heart, and he was not afraid to rebuke the one at fault.

The room fell silent on one side whereas the orphans, who had no knowledge regarding proper court trial conduct, erupted in a cheer and applauded Woohyun’s speech as one of salvation.

“This is nonsense!” Sungyeol then spoke up, standing on his feet to meet Woohyun face to face. “Do not talk to my parents in such a disrespectful manner. Your defenses are driven by your emotion, for we know of your relationship with Miss Jang. Has she paid you to speak up for her? Nay. Considering their destitute economy, is she paying you with her body?”

The calm receded from Woohyun’s face, and from the manner he folded his hands into a fist, they knew of his inability to restrain his patience. However, he truly proved to have a surprising disposition when, instead of of throwing a punch, he smiled with controlled anger instead.

“Honorable audience members, lo and behold the words of Lee Sungyeol, the eldest son of the Lees. He has the shameful audacity to accuse a young woman of prostitution. Imagine if that young woman was a daughter of your own. Is such behavior exemplaratory and acceptable? Would you allow a man to speak degradingly of your daughter?” Woohyun voiced out loud, ensuring every single person in the room received his message. He turned to the Lees again, narrowing his eyes into a more sinister look. “After losing a son, it seems Mr. and Mrs. Lee did not put in enough effort to teach proper conduct to the only legitimate son they had left.”

When Woohyun turned to Sungyeol this time, his gaze was akin to a stranger. No longer was he the wealthy man who volunteered to carry out all of Sunggyu’s dirty tasks. Nay, he was an equal who had an important cause worthy of his protection.

The second uproar started, and this time, they were swayed into accusing the Lees of their wrongdoings. With it, the orphans joined in, Youngtaek and Jineul especially fond of using profanities which they would be reprimanded for later.

“Order!” Myungsoo called again, repeating the hammering of his gavel. “Under the stride of your argument, I shall grant leniency to the case and view Miss Jang Hyunmi’s action to be one of virtuous conduct. However, it does not change the fact that Lee Daeyeol is still underage. According to law, his parents will retain custody over him. If they wish for him to move out of the Jang residence, then he shall oblige.”

“What? Your Honor!” Daeyeol was quick to interrupt before the gavel would set motion to the law. “I do not wish to return to the Lee families. As Mr. Nam has pointed out, they are underqualified to raise a child, let alone maintain a proper household. I love living with the Jangs, please allow me to stay. It shan’t be long before I become of age and bear legal authority make my own decisions. Please, I beg of you, allow my stay.”

As Myungsoo considered his plea, Kim Sunggyu rose from his seat again, ready to add more oil to the fire.

“You speak of a proper household, dear child. However, I would like to inform everyone of another crime they have committed. A criminal tend to revisit the location of his crime and eventually falls under same patterns of felony. Years ago, the Jangs abducted Lee Daeyeol with the reason to save him. This year, they abducted a young child from her workplace and troubled the business owner’s profit,” Sunggyu spoke, resting his menacing eyes over the group of orphans who looked on with horror. “A young female by the name of Shin Jineul. I believe she is currently present amongst them.”

Others turned their heads toward Jineul who showed demure at this sudden attention. Her greatest fear proved to be correct, Kim Sunggyu recognize her. She had hoped their meeting would proceed as strangers, but reality never went in accordance to her wants.

“Is this true?” Myungsoo asked, seemingly perplexed by this new piece of information.

“Yes, Your Honor. Mr. Nam has been kind enough to provide me the information himself. As we have all seen, he is a very reliable news source,” Sunggyu spoke, grinning with derision.

“What? I—” Woohyun was at a loss for words, immediately meeting Hyunmi’s eyes for the first time that day. How his heart ached when the look of disappointment and betrayal decorated her pale face. Despite having made many amendments to correct a fault, the wrongdoing would always outweigh the right.

“We help! Jineul hurt!” Dongwoo began to speak up.

Hearing his unintelligible speech patterns, many audience members gasped and looked on with disgust. They came to realize they had been breathing the same air as a mentally handicapped person, which they believed was contagious. Another chaos ensued, calling Dongwoo disgusting names, sending him sudden death treats, and even wishing he would burn in hell where he belonged as a sinner. It was frightening how one’s emotion could morph over the span of a second.

Hyunmi, Daeyeol, and even Woohyun quickly stood in front of Dongwoo, trying to shield him from people’s harmful words. Hyunmi even pulled the scarf higher up his face, hoping that by covering his ears, it would muffle out the words thrown at him.

“Your Honor, I would like to add my account to the case,” an outsider suddenly added. As he approached the front of the room to meet the judge, some realized he wasn’t much of a stranger after all. Jangjun and Sungyoon looked on in disbelief, feeling panic settle in their hearts. It drummed so outrageously it could deafen their own hearing. It was the merchant with his signature golden tooth.

“Yes, you may speak,” Myungsoo permitted.

“The defendant speaks of the household as one with proper upbringings, but I would like to deflect his false statement. Aside from child abductions, they are raising an army of monsters. I have recently come in contact with one of the residents. Using clever tricks, he managed to con me and diverted my attention elsewhere while he stole a piece of jewelry from my inventory.”

Hyunmi scrunched her eyes, having no single recollection of this event. “Have you gotten proof, sir? Fabricated tales are not appreciated in the sight of the honorable judge,” she spoke.

“I was fortunate enough to retrieve my stolen good. As the young thief was running away from my stall, I saw a shiny object falling out of his pocket. After careful inspection, I confirmed it to be the golden necklace that was missing from my collection. If you request for proof, that I have none of. However, I assume that by going through the young boy’s inventory, you might find valuable goods he could not possibly have paid for,” the man spoke. Rather than wanting to provoke the audience or bring harm to the orphans, he seemed to truly want to testify against a crime committed toward him.

“There must be a fallacy in your recollection. We have no such person in the house!” Hyunmi insisted.

“Truly?” The man grinned, showing his golden tooth when a challenge was finally presented before him. “Why don’t you ask the culprit himself?”

Hyunmi followed the direction of his finger that led back to one of the orphans—someone she never thought would return to the foul habits he had gotten rid of.

“Jangjun,” she said his name in a small whisper. As easily as she believed Woohyun to have deceived her all along, she believed Jangjun may have relapsed into his old habits. Years ago, she met him on the street where he held the infamous reputation as a pickpocket. After residing with them, he abstained himself from the ill practice, did he not?

“Young man, is this true?” Myungsoo asked, now turning to Jangjun.

Jangjun felt like a powerless animal trapped between wild boars ready to devour him for his mistake. He did not have the power to meet Hyunmi’s eyes, knowing he had tremendously failed as a son. He could not beg Woohyun for help, believing he had equally disappointed him. He loathed answering Myungsoo’s question, hating the fact that his rival was once again above him in terms of authority and virtue. However, out of everyone, he did not dare to look at Rika, afraid of seeing the disgust written on her face. What if the way she looked at him was akin to the manner she looked at a sinner?

“Is this true, Jangjun?” Myungsoo pressed again, using his name to show his need for a reply.

The young man pressed his lips together, trying to fend his way out. However, the merchant’s deduction had been correct. If they were to look in his room, they would easily find the collection of the stolen jewelries. Wouldn’t it be better to admit his mistakes now than deny them for a bigger penalty afterwards?

He felt Sungyoon squeeze his arm from the side, giving a slight nod as mental support. The ability to admit mistakes was a virtuous quality the judge did not possess, and Jangjun truly wished to become a better man. Therefore, he exhaled his breath before conceding a small nod.

“Yes, Your Honor, it is true,” he confessed.

Several gasps drowned the room, surprised to witness the child abduction case of Lee Daeyeol turn into a riot to exterminate Jang Dongwoo, and once more into a trial of theft committed by Jangjun. Unforeseen events overlooked today’s trial to the extent Myungsoo allowed his emotion to show on his face.

“Why have you committed such treason?” Myungsoo sighed, knowing this event complicated today’s trial.

From his peripheral vision, Jangjun stole a glance at Rika, seeing the same frustration and worry imprinted on her face. She considered him a good friend, and perhaps, he had fallen even lower after his imperative need to alleviate his hassle elsewhere. What had he done?

“I cannot answer that, Your Honor,” he muttered.

His response exasperated Myungsoo’s intention to help him. “Had it been for a good and worthy cause, I may see the need to lessen your penalty. Are you certain you do not wish to relay an answer to my question?”

“Lessen his penalty? Your Honor, he stole from innocent merchants all across town! This imbecile is a thief and does not deserve any of your mercy! He deserves a death sentence for stealing!” the gold toothed merchant cried out, swinging his arm in anger.

“Ah, your familiarity finally strikes me. Aren’t you the same merchant who went around spreading rumors of prostitution regarding my belo…” Woohyun stopped himself from calling her as his own, quickly amending his words. “Regarding Miss Jang?”

“Indeed, he is the man who challenged you into retracting his permit to set up his stall at the marketplace. Any faux pas on his part could result in the removal of such permit,” Hyunmi added, forgetting she hadn’t spoken to him for an entire week. The reaction to join and support Woohyun had come naturally to her, showcasing the perfect pair they once were.

For a brief second, she accidentally caught Woohyun staring at her, a dimpled smile stretching over his lips. She could not help but return his radiant smile, for their shared predilection in this matter.

“Order!” Myungsoo called again before the merchant could protest. When the gavel knocked against the wood, everyone was forced to listen. After a momentary silence, the judge finally derived a conclusion for today’s matters.

“We shall go over the issues one by one. Our main objective for today’s trial was in regard to Lee Daeyeol’s status. Considering he is still underage and cannot lawfully fend for himself yet, Mr. Lee Wonyoung and Mrs. Kim Kyungok shall retain custody until he is of age. Effective immediately, Lee Daeyeol is to return to the Lee residence. Miss Jang Hyunmi is exempted from any penalty considering her reasonings for her actions.”

Daeyeol was about to protest, but Hyunmi quickly grabbed him by the arm. She signed him to obediently follow the court’s wishes, knowing they had been granted leniency. He exchanged a small look with Sungjong who seemed to communicate the same message. At least he’d have an ally in the new house; someone who loathed the family as much as he did. This small exchange did not go unnoticed by Sungyeol who seemed utterly defeated by this turn of events.

“Thank you, Your Honor,” both Hyunmi and Daeyeol spoke, using the sincerest tone they could manage.

“Regarding the case of Jangjun, theft is still considered a crime worthy of a death penalty in the past. However, we no longer implement such systems,” Myungsoo spoke, eyeing Howon who was eagerly awaiting his next task to beat the young man up. However, the judge was known for his magnanimous nature. Knowing Jangjun was a close friend of Rika, he could not opt for such alternatives. “You are sentenced to serve two years in jail.”

“What?” It was Rika who voiced out her surprise before anyone else.

Jangjun turned to her, forgetting he had abstained himself from doing so. Only then, did he realize he had deduced the situation wrongly. He had thought his friend to be ashamed of his crimes, but all he read on her expression was the tender worries she had never shown anyone else. Warm tears filtered her eyes, pained by the sufferings Jangjun would have to go through.

“Lastly, I am concerned over the method of upbringing in the Jang household. I understand the land and house are currently a property under the name of Mr. Jang Dongwoo. However, considering Mr. Jang’s mental disability, I no longer see the safety for the residents, nor the capability to develop them into exemplaratory characters. Under normal circumstances, I would suggest you to transfer the ownership of the house to a family member. However, considering Miss Jang Hyunmi is the only family member alive, and women are abstained from owning their own properties, you are hereby required to transfer the property to a third party.”

“Your Honor, my brother’s mental disability has never posed a problem. You can’t force us to forgo our house,” Hyunmi began to protest.

“Based on today’s accounts and testimonies, the method used to raise the orphans in the house pose to be a questionable one. You may speak of heroic actions, but if you nurture criminals in your household, you add zero contribution to our society. In order to protect fellow citizens, I must remove Mr. Jang as owner. Do not make me amend my decision and send him to a mental institute, Miss Jang,” Myungsoo spoke harshly. “Now then, Mr. Jang, I permit you a week to remove yourself from your position as owner.”

As the room was engulfed in silence again, the knocking of the gavel was the only sound finalizing every single one of the judge’s decision.

“The meeting is adjourned,” Howon announced. He glared at the orphans, especially at Jangjun who managed to escape the torturous penalty of being beaten by a whip. Those foolish pariahs were furious at Myungsoo for his decisions, not realizing the leniency he had bestowed them with.

“What happened? What does this mean?” Donghyun asked, tugging on Youngtaek’s shirt to understand the situation.

“I suppose it means… We will no longer have a house to live in,” Youngtaek answered.

Realizing the true atrocity of their condition, Dongwoo pulled the scarf over his face once again, wishing for once, he could disappear from the problems he caused.


	26. Arbitration

Every action was attached to a string of events that bore grave consequences. When one was indifferent regarding possible outcomes, regret would come over every now and then.

The punishment of Jangjun’s imprisonment took effect immediately. Several members of the household decided to visit him, including Rika who obtained Myungsoo’s permission to come along. They sat opposite of Jangjun with a gate of steel bars separating in between. The first noticeable difference was his flashy uniform—big stripes of bright orange and white—distincting the captives from the wardens. It had only been a day since his punishment commenced, yet the exhaustion and torment altered his face to appear ten years older.

“Are you well?” Hyunmi couldn’t help but ask. A sane person would never be well off in a prison; not even the overly optimistic could behave in such vacuous tendencies.

However, Jangjun fell into the collective group of the latter. He brimmed proudly, showing his perfect row of teeth, emphasizing the wide grin on his face. “This place isn’t as horrid as the grim tales make it out to be.”

“Do you receive proper meals?” Hyunmi, again, posed a foolish question they all knew the answer to. Jangjun was a convict, and no person charged with a crime would receive a luxurious treatment. They’d whip him for failure to carry out a task and withhold his meal for their personal contentment.

“I am fed well,” Jangjun smiled, his act so convincing it nearly made Hyunmi believe him. He maintained his smile, stealing a glance from Rika to see whether or not she watched him. He had never seen her hold her gaze with such attention, refusing to remove him from her sight. For once, Jangjun demurred being the gravitying object of his love interest’s gaze.

“I shall have a word with the prison guards and suggest you receive better treatments,” Hyunmi insisted. She was about to leave from her spot when Sungyoon rushed to grab her by the elbow.

“You do not want to provoke the wardens, mother. Any favoritism toward a prisoner will only result in a harsher treatment. Trust me, we show Jangjun favor through neglect,” he spoke.

After the momentary conflict resolved in Hyunmi’s mind, she nodded in agreement. No hint of emotion clouded Jangjun’s smiling face, seemingly too keen on convincing everyone of his well being. Hyunmi was uncertain regarding the state of her beliefs.

“Perhaps we should head home,” Jineul suggested, punctuating her sentence with a remorseful shudder. Their home had started to feel less like a home nowadays. Too many residents have left the place to truly call it a home.

“May I be excused to have a private audience with Jangjun?” Rika suddenly requested.

The rest offered anxious glanced to each other, sparing a discreet look at Jangjun in search for permission. But he had long dismissed their presence, for his eyes only saw Rika. They quietly excused themselves, leaving the two be.

“Rika…”

“Why did you do it?” She interjected him, a deep forlorn pain injected in her trembling voice. The same quiver was present in the manner she shifted her pupils toward and away from him. She firmly clasped her hands on top of her other one, having nothing else to hold on to.

Jangjun pressed his lips together, wishing he had considered the consequences of his thoughtless actions. Should he reveal her rejection as the cause for his rebellion, she would undoubtedly come to despise him forever. He avoided her gaze, searching for a plausible excuse.

“I enjoyed the thrill of it.”

“Lies!” She retaliated immediately, forcing him to turn to her. “You never managed to look me in the eye whenever you are spewing a lie.”

An ache began to grow in Jangjun’s heart once again, realizing that Rika would always be the subject of his affection. How could he possibly care for another woman when she was the one he desired most? No one pertained such detailed understanding regarding his habits and emotions beyond his own knowledge. Even if he elicited a million reasons to alleviate her question, she could easily objectify them as lies.

“Tell me the truth, Jangjun,” she repeated her conundrum.

Jangjun exhaled a deep breath, propping his forehead against his hand as he recollected his thoughts. Perhaps it was time to concede to her request and stop his attempts at camouflaging his feelings. Oh, what a wretched situation it was. Often times he had imagined proclaiming his feelings for her, but not like this; not when they were separated by steel bars. Haply, his current situation aided him to cope with the forthcoming rejection.

“Very well,” he said, gathering the last ounce of courage before meeting her anticipating eyes. “I am very much in love with you.”

Rika’s eyes widened with disbelief before blinking rapidly out of oblivity. He showed no signs evincing it was a jest, thus propelling her to believe it as the truth. She parted her lips in silence, clenching her teeth in the hope it could stop the unease from crawling over her. She did not despise him, not at all. However, the fact his unlawful actions had been associated to his feelings toward her was a difficult notion to cope with.

“Does loving me require you to become a convict?” she hesitantly asked, unable to find the right words to convey her feelings. The odd combination of words she chose felt foreign to her tongue, but she swallowed her discomfort to obtain his reply.

“Do not blame yourself, the fault was entirely mine. I could no longer control my apathy after discovering you and Mr. Kim share feelings for one another. He will soon wed you as his mistress, and I lack the valor to accept it. Therefore, I had no other choice but to oblige in this path, which provided me momentary pleasure and comfort, foolish as it was,” Jangjun said, a faint smile awkwardly curving his lips.

Rika frowned, wondering whether he jested with her. “Where have you obtained such unreliable information from? I am no mistress and have no plans of becoming one.”

“You confessed your feelings for him. When questioned, Mr. Kim admitted he loves you too.”

“Oh, Jangjun,” Rika cooed, exhaling a sigh of pity. Had the steel bars not separated them, she would have placed her arms around him. “The love he bears for me is an affinity to that of a family. He loves Mrs. Kim Seulyi very much, and I would abhor myself if I were ever to cause a disharmony in their relationship.”

“But you are in love with him,” Jangjun insisted, unable to comprehend the concept she was explaining to him.

“Perhaps I was in love with the affable affection he displayed me with; not with the man himself,” Rika answered. The lecture she had received from Woohyun echoed clearly in her mind: “I do not wish for your affections to originate from a single act of kindness. That is not the foundation a relationship should be built on.”

“If your love for him bears no romantic notion, then I—” Jangjun let his words linger between them, both knowing the continuation he would punctuate his sentence with. He requested a chance, wondering whether she could love him in the manner he loved her.

Rika smiled in response. “Perhaps, after two years have passed and you are liberated from your punishment, things may have changed.”

Her reply was unsatisfactory to Jangjun who was once again left to wonder whether the change she spoke of was beneficial or detrimental. Before he had time to question her, she stood up. Their seconds together had been limited, and Jangjun instantly regretted his sullen behavior. Had he not stolen those jewelries as an act of revolt, perhaps she could have reciprocated him. There was hope after all.

“Rika!” He followed her movements, standing on his feet to be at the same eye level. He had zero regard for his surrounding, unaffected by people’s condemning stares when his gaze was set on one goal. He waited for her to twirl her body around, eyes averted back on him. Then a smile chased each other over his lips, and he elicited his final request.

“Wait for me.”

Attempting not to mirror his giddy emotion was a challenge Rika failed. “I will,” she replied, nodding at him once before leaving the place.

Despite her inability to reply to him now, a change would take place. Perhaps, it had already begun. Years, she had been oblivious to his feelings, unaware of the possibility that their friendship could evolve into something else entirely.

The rhythm of her heart started to dance at the remembrance of his words, and she no longer had to suppress a smile.

“I am very much in love with you.”

***

Unaware of the blossoming romance, the rest returned to their solemn reality and a house too empty for their liking. Due to Dongwoo’s public appearance at the court hearing, many citizens filed complaints to usher him out of town—some even petitioned for him to be executed. They believed his mental disability was associated to the devil. For that reason, Dongwoo had not been allowed to part with Jangjun in public, involuntarily remaining at the house with Joochan and Donghyun to accompany him.

Upon the others’ arrival, Dongwoo was the first to rush to the door and greeted everyone with vehement excitement. His eyes could not have twinkled a brighter spark—a spark of which the flame slowly perished when he was met by Hyunmi’s cold glare. Clearly, her rage was meant for both Woohyun and him. She sent Woohyun away with such ease, it frightened Dongwoo to think of his own exile had they not been blood related. Nay, perhaps he was being prepared for his banishment.

“Hyunmi,” he called out, his voice a creaking glass on the verge of breaking.

“Do not pester me, brother. You have inflicted enough afflictions to trouble my mind with,” Hyunmi spoke, throwing her head into the palms of her hand. “Mr. Kim granted us a week to transfer the house to its new owner. I have yet to figure out where we shall live once we become homeless. I doubt Mr. Nam will allow our stay.”

Dongwoo’s eyes were encompassed by a deep sadness, wondering what had overcome his sister to think in such degrading manners. How could she have such little faith in Woohyun after his favorable defense at court? If it weren’t for him, they might not have been granted such leniency.

“Woohyun never sign,” he dared himself to speak. Seeing her turn to him at an alarming speed frightened him a little, and he pulled the emerald colored scarf taller above his mouth.

“What are you implying?” Hyunmi insisted, her tone a demand rather than a simple solicit.

“I give contract, ask Woohyun sign. Woohyun never sign,” Dongwoo articulated the events to the best of his abilities, hoping his sister received the message. Her silence encouraged him to continue. He decided to add a fact Woohyun had never admitted verbally, yet, reflected the kindness of his solidary character. “Woohyun worry about you, so no sign.”

An array of emotion crossed Hyunmi’s face, realization dawning upon her. For someone who despised the society that placed judgements upon others, she had been the biggest hypocrite of all. How could her faith in him be limited to the lies written on a piece of parchment? How could she easily discern Woohyun’s character as a beguiling deceiver after the kindness he gifted them with?

“Why did you not alert me earlier, brother?” Hyunmi asked. The moment of epiphany fleeting across her face as soon as it had appeared. The excitement of the new revelation succumbed into the same somber dilemma she had been trying to solve.

“You no listen,” Dongwoo said, feeling the ache in his heart. No one ever listened to him; not the society, not the orphans, not even his own sister. Despite the warmth they have bestowed toward him, their opinion did not differ from society. He was a fool whose existence did not edify the population, but rather, depleted them into a shameful community. The petition for his exile shaped a greater understanding in him.

Hyunmi bit her lips together, remaining firm in her seat. “Do not blame your faults on me. Your lack of communication allowed my impatience to detonate. However, how could I expect you to carry my messages? You can barely speak what’s on your mind.”

Whether she had meant it as a jest or firmly believed her statement, Dongwoo remained silent and pondered on her words. He had been given a great responsibility as the older brother; one he failed to perform because of his mental setbacks. Had he not fallen victim to traumatizing events during childhood, perhaps he’d a brother worth her pride. Instead, he was the idiot brother who could barely convey his words using proper syntax.

He had unconsciously muted her speech, not noticing the moment she left the room. His eyes roamed blankly at the floor, his fingers brushing over the soft texture of his favorite scarf. His sister had given him so much, whereas he had given her nothing but embarrassment, shame, and regret.

What a failure.

***

Outside, the orphans had placed a curious ear against the closed door, trying to embezzle parts of the conversation through solid walls. When Hyunmi marched out, everyone resumed a pretentious activity—though they should not have bothered, for she spared them no single glance and remained tight lipped.

“Mother,” Donghyun called out, always the most courageous in tense situations. He made his way to Hyunmi, knotting his tiny fingers with hers. “When is father coming back?”

The question caught her off guard, the panic immediately imminent on her face. The more they observed her, the clearer her guilt grew. It was no longer a matter of right and wrong, but an elongated delay to see who would overcome their pride and seek the other out first.

“Donghyun, he might never be coming back,” Hyunmi said, forging a smile on the words she wished were a lie. After her asinine behavior, she doubted Woohyun still wanted her. His assistance during court trial was merely a reflection of the benevolent man he had always been, not out of any residue affection. Her heart ached knowing she had lost him forever. Before more questions ensued, she quickly excused herself and fled the scene to head upstairs.

“I refuse to believe it! Father wouldn’t leave us astray!” Donghyun began to shout like a petulant child, even stomping and swaying his arms to all directions to announce his protest.

Joochan sighed as he shifted the piano bench beneath him. He lost the will to play an orchestrated piece, aimlessly brushing his fingers over the piano keys. “Mr. Nam gifted this piano to me,” he began, pressing an F note that sounded as desolate as their situation. “He is one of the few people who believed in my musical ability. A man with such benevolence can’t be the enemy.”

“Yes! Father often tells me how much he loves to hear you play, but dared not say it out loud in fear his upfront compliments would embarrass you. You never seem to respond well to his remarks,” Donghyun added, privy to the truth Joochan knew nothing of. The young boy showed such alacrity in his defenses.

Joochan pressed his lips together and hid his face toward the piano, ensuring no one would see his fluster. “He is more lavish than mother, it is embarrassing,” he mumbled.

“I hate to agree, but Mr. Nam is above the atrocity I have seen in revolting men. He takes on a true paternal figure and never viewed me in a perverse manner. Compared to the aristocrat male population, I do not loathe him at all,” Jineul spoke with her arms folded, attempting to seem distant and aloof. For her to speak so highly of a person without the aid of any profanities was truly the highest form of flattery.

“The manner he defended mother at court was astounding,” Sungyoon added his little part of observation, receiving murmurs of agreement.

“Yes! I wish to liken myself to him someday and defend mother and everyone else who is wronged,” Donghyun spoke giddily, practically jumping on his feet while clapping his hands. He found such joy when the rest agreed with his opinions. “Oh, we can’t let this be. We need to rekindle their affection and unite their love!”

“Continue speaking in such manner, and you may actually liken yourself to him,” Sungyoon spoke, the corner of his mouth lifting halfway. It were the type of words Daeyeol might have jested with, and in his absence, Sungyoon felt the need to channel the older boy’s presence.

Donghyun’s elation prevented him from thinking of anything else, giddily giggling to himself as he spun around in circles. “I have assembled a mission for myself, and it is to retrieve father. I am certain he can’t stay away from mother for too long.”

The others looked on at Donghyun with eyes of sympathy—the boy’s youthful age prevented him from grasping the impossibility of his request. There was only one person who stood by in silence. To agree was to completely yield his endeavors in pursuing the woman whose heart belonged to another man. Mayhap, the time had arrived to cease his pursuit altogether.

When the others occupied themselves with other matters, Youngtaek quietly slipped to the hallway. He put on his coat, boots, and a khaki newsboy cap to secure himself from the cold weather before opening the front door.

“Where are you going?” Donghyun’s curious voice appeared from behind.

Youngtaek halted his movements, turning around to meet the young boy’s widened eyes. “I am going to amend the situation and retrieve Mr. Nam.”

Donghyun’s wide eyes seemed to expand more in size, even shimmering at the prospect of meeting his father. He wasted no other second and grabbed his own winter gears. “I shall come with you!”

“Hyunmi might erupt in anger if she finds out I took you with me.”

“Nay, she is in anger because her heart misses father. Besides, she has no heed of knowing my absence if we both keep quiet,” the little boy remarked with a mischievous glint. He placed a finger in front of his mouth, motioning a silent agreement to keep their clandestine voyage between them.

“Very well,” Youngtaek gave in, biting his lips to weigh the situation. He then offered a hand to Donghyun, which the little boy eagerly accepted. “Do not wander off.”

“Yes, sir!”

Their unplanned journey proved to be more troubling than either suspected. Mainly because Youngtaek hadn’t had a clue of Woohyun’s residency, vaguely recalling the topic had only been mentioned once. It was surprising to see Donghyun sauntering ahead with great confidence and childlike faith.

“Where are you leading us?” Youngtaek asked.

“To father’s mansion. It is down this road,” Donghyun replied, pointing toward a distant pathway leading to the elite part of town they had never dared to trespass. He remarked no hesitancy in Youngtaek’s stiff movement, and continued to tug on his arms.

“How would you know?” Youngtaek asked, baffled.

“He told us,” Donghyun answered once again, not losing the energetic stride in his march. “If we follow this path, the mansion is located at the very end of it. There should be cream colored marble pillars decorating the front.”

Youngtaek was truly astounded, gaping his mouth to express his surprise. In the same manner Joochan was a gifted musician and Rika a talented artist, it seemed Donghyun’s aptitude was only starting to sprout before them. He could easily recall small details from his memory, which would become a valuable asset were he to truly pursue a career as a lawyer.

“Lead the way,” he spoke, and the spurt of encouragement made Donghyun quicken his steps. Though they had never visited Woohyun’s mansion before, the instructions he had given back then were a good indication to create a mental map. Trimmed bushes and luxurious flora passed by in a flash, soon distancing the two bypassers from the familiarity of the town.

The roadmap was laid out in Donghyun’s mind, and it took no more than several minutes to finally arrive in front of the manion with the cream colored marble pillars in front. Indeed, there had only been one among the street of luxury: the biggest one. When people dubbed their beloved Mr. Nam as the wealthiest man in town, none speculated his richness to come in such abundance.

Suddenly Donghyun gripped tighter unto Youngtaek’s hand, retreating to his side instead of ambushing the front door. The genteel on his face morphed into quivering lips and rapidly blinking eyes. His gusto seemed to disappear in the manner the sun began to conceal itself behind dark clouds.

“What is the matter?” Youngtaek asked, bearing no such patience to calm the little boy. He nearly rolled his eyes, only abstaining because he feared Donghyun might tattle his crime to Hyunmi.

“Do you supposed father wishes to see us? What if his departure had been deliberate?” Donghyun asked in a small whimper.

The six year old boy sure came with a lot of surprises. Youngtaek never thought him to possess such maturity and understanding for his young age. “If that is the case, he shall have a conversation with my fist.”

Donghyun’s surprised and gaping eyes were enough indication of protest, and Youngtaek shook off his humor. He made the first move to approach the front door, clasping the golden knob in his hand and knocking three times. A loud thunderous noise echoed from inside, followed by approaching footsteps, and finally, an open door.

“Father!” All worries diminished at the sight of the familiar face, and Donghyun recklessly threw himself into Woohyun’s arms. From the way he caught the young one, Donghyun was certain Woohyun had been as ecstatic about their impromptu encounter.

“What…” Woohyun swallowed, shifting his gaze between the two visitors. “What brings you two here? How did you managed to find this place?”

“I remembered your words from back then,” Donghyun looked up, a bright smile splattered on his face. “I kept searching for the house with the marbled pillars.”

“Did you, now?” Woohyun asked, perplexed at this interesting revelation. He turned to Youngtaek who nodded in acknowledgement at the young boy’s hidden talent. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“We need you to return to the house,” Youngtaek spoke in a quick breath, rising his tense shoulders. Despite his unusual plea, he refused to look at the man who carefully studied him.

“Huh, uncanny to hear those words coming from you in particular,” Woohyun teased.

“I take no joy in speaking them either, but it is the truth. We need you. Hyunmi and Dongwoo haven’t made amendments to their relationship. You are the root of their quarrel,” Youngtaek spoke, still remaining indifferent while throwing occasional glances at his enemy.

Woohyun narrowed his eyes, the earlier joy faded from his glint. “It seems both you and Miss Jang could reevaluate your proper conduct instead of accusing a person of a false crime. I shall make myself clear once and for all; yes, Dongwoo came to me with the contract, but I have never signed it nor do I intend to do so.”

Youngtaek softened his cold facade, releasing the tension of his shoulder as he averted his full attention to the other. “You haven’t?”

“Nay. I know the importance the house holds for Hyunmi. Recklessly signing it without her consent equals an act of betrayal. I would never intentionally hurt the person I hold dear to myself,” Woohyun spoke, catching his lower lip with his teeth. One could easily identify the hurt and defeat in his tone; his goodwill had been exchanged for distrust.

His miserable reply forced Youngtaek to look away in shame. The focus to find faults in others resulted in a failure to see the good in them. If there was one person he would willingly yield Hyunmi for, it’d be Woohyun.

“You must truly treasure her,” Youngtaek mumbled to himself. He then gasped, realizing a different matter. “Mr. Nam, the judge granted us a time of one week to find a new owner of the house. If you won’t sign the contract, then who will?”

“I haven’t had a clue, Youngtaek, neither am I interested in any knowledge pertaining to that matter. If the mere issue of my ownership brought such hatred, I rather abstain myself from this issue,” Woohyun spoke, hardening his gaze. Clearly, there had been hurt, defeat, and bitterness.

“Mother does not hate you, she loves you!” Donghyun interrupted.

“For once, I must agree. Since your departure, she hasn’t been herself. You must accompany us at once and return Hyunmi to her usual state,” Youngtaek insisted. His eyes fell to Woohyun’s free hands that were no longer caressing Donghyun’s head, wondering if it’d be inappropriate to pull him along. Yes, he decided, it’d be inappropriate.

“My apologies, fine gentlemen, but you request too much of me. Your mother wants me gone, and the least I can offer is to respect her wish,” Woohyun spoke, finally pulling himself back from Donghyun, faltering a little when the little boy whimpered.

“Truly you can’t mean that! How long have you known Hyunmi to be aware of her mood? The words she utters may juxtapose the desire in her heart. Despite wishing you gone, her heart longs for your return. If you could not decipher this, then you are the true fool, Mr. Nam, and we have wasted our time,” Youngtaek nearly shouted, gritting his teeth in anger. That same hand now considered slapping Woohyun, which he also abstained from for it was indecent.

“Then I apologize for wasting your time,” Woohyun concluded, a darkening look shadowing his earlier kindliness. The thunders began to roll at the same instant, edifying the unwelcoming gaze. “I wish I could invite you inside for tea, but I suppose your mother may start questioning your whereabouts considering she has not been made aware of your little visitation. It seems the weather won’t be in your favor for long.”

Youngtaek rolled his hands into a fist, preventing himself from throwing the first punch. Nay, he must not react with violence, or he may suffer a similar fate as Jangjun. “I have clearly misjudged you, Mr. Nam.”

“No one required you to play the role of a judge,” Woohyun retaliated, twisting his lips to a sardonic smile before moving his fingers to the door. “Be careful on your journey home.”

He closed the door before them. This was certainly not the outcome they had imagined at the start of their voyage.

What a nuisance! Woohyun was as equally stubborn as Hyunmi; both unable to take the blame for their own mistakes and demanding the other to offer the first set of apologies. Youngtaek wondered why adults were given immense responsibilities when their actions likened them to overgrown babies at times. Ridiculous. He no longer wanted to be the arbitrator between them.

“Let’s return, Donghyun,” Youngtaek said, taking the young boy by the hand. By now, the weather had grown colder, and the trottoir felt unusually slippery—several times, their grip against each other was the only support to balance themselves. A man in solitude had a greater possibility at falling.

When the two arrived home, the drizzle of rain had started to appear. Another commotion awaited its greeting as the entire house turned upside down. People were running about, back and forth, frantically in search of something, or someone.

“They have returned!” Jineul shouted out once she spotted the two standing at the door. Her relieved smile lasted for brief seconds, soon becoming downward hills.

Hyunmi, Joochan, and Sungyoon joined them soon enough, bearing similar expressions. Their eyes were never on them, but looked beyond them.

“Is it just the two of you?” Hyunmi asked, her rushed impatience quite unusual.

“Where have you two been?” Joochan asked.

“We went to visit—”

“The market!” Youngtaek was quick to interrupt Donghyun’s sentence. He was certain their attempt at a kind gesture would not be appreciated by Hyunmi, especially when the outcome had been in vain.

Their lie was an open book, ready for someone to gnash on and reinstate as the false truth. Donghyun frowned at the interruption, trying to amend the mistake and admit they had visited Woohyun. Youngtaek placed a hand in front of Donghyun’s mouth, a move which was bound to instigate suspicions. However, the others seemed far too occupied to focus on their brief discord.

“What is the matter? Who are you searching for?” Youngtaek finally gave in and inquired.

“Dongwoo,” Sungyoon answered. “He has been missing since this evening.”


	27. Light

Sometimes it took a person’s absence to assimilate the importance of their presence. Dongwoo had always been in their midst; whether lost in his reverie, or having taken on the role of the guardian. It was his scrupulous duty to resolve the prolonged détente between individuals. They had grown accustomed to his ardour and dismissed the possibility of any unconscious relegation. However, had that been the cause of his disappearance?

“Where has he gone off to?” Youngtaek posed a foolish question.

“If we knew the answer, he wouldn’t be missing,” Jineul answered with her trademark eyeroll. “We are wasting time, mother. We must set forth and search for him.”

“Have you searched the area?” Youngtaek questioned again.

“It is pouring outside, thus limiting our search to nearby areas,” Sungyoon spoke.

Recognition at being the subject of the conversation made the thunders roar a flickering outburst that jolted everyone in place. Youngtaek had barely noticed the small drizzle growing into a big thunderstorm during their sojourn.

“We have searched around the house, but received no clues regarding his whereabouts,” Joochan added. He showed a doodle of the map he had drawn on a notepad, marking the covered areas with small x marks.

“To retrieve him, perhaps we need to identify the motive for his disappearance,” Sungyoon began.

“Why do you reckon he has a motive? What if it was a recurring episode of his breakdown?” Jineul asked, carefully eyeing Hyunmi to prevent any offense.

“Whenever his disease striked in the past, he remained under our watch and never strayed asunder. However, he left without a trace this time,” Sungyoon argued, silencing any attempted objection.

“Well, what could he possibly have wanted to achieve to instigate his sudden departure?” Youngtaek asked with a frown, not bearing the patience to solve the problem. He needed answers and solution.

“To meet father,” Donghyun suddenly exclaimed, the bright smile slowly fading when he realized the adults staring at him with perplexity. He cowered his body a little and began shuffling his foot against the floor. “Mother’s chagrin mood can only he absolved through father’s presence. Even Youngtaek and I went to meet father to try and bring him here, but he refused.”

Hyunmi exhaled out a long, slow stretch of breath, processing the information they witheld from her. “You went to see Woo... I mean, Mr. Nam?” she asked, shaking her head at her slip of tongue.

“Indeed, because we could no longer stand seeing your detrimental behavior after your tirade. It needs to stop, and we are all in one accord. I agree with Donghyun, Dongwoo may have gone to see Mr. Nam for this exact purpose,” Youngtaek spoke, raising his voice with every word he uttered. “Put your pride behind you and admit to your mistakes; it is time to assuage the afflictions.”

Hyunmi wondered what had taken place in the moments she stopped paying attention. Donghyun’s wisdom matured beyond his years, whereas Youngtaek’s loathing towards Woohyun was replaced by a solidary yearning to unravel their problems. It was true; a conflict made a person to grow over time.

“I shall head over to Woohyun, and the rest of you can continue searching this area. Someone needs to remain home in case my brother returns. Do use something to cover yourselves up,” Hyunmi commanded, taking her coat and boots.

“But mother, you do not know the way,” Sungyoon spoke worriedly.

“I do! It is the house with the cream colored marble pillars at the end of the wealthy street,” Donghyun yelled, showing off his knowledge. He went over a detailed description of the road to prove his credibility. “I brought us to the place before, so let me go with you, mother.”

Had it not been raining, the little boy could have come along to guide the way. With one hand on the door handle, she placed her other hand on top of Donghyun’s head. “Aren’t you afraid of the thunder?”

“Nay. Father says the thunder is needed to part the dark sky with its brimming light,” Donghyun recited what Woohyun had said to deplete his fear. “Light defeats darkness.”

Hyunmi easily recalled that moment and the eerie similarity it bore to today’s event. During a rainstorm, Dongwoo had gone missing. It was Woohyun who managed to retrieve him in time, and Hyunmi hoped history would repeat itself.

“Stay here and wait for Dongwoo,” she instructed the others one last time. As the thunders rolled, the darkening sky was parted by a brimming light, indeed. Hyunmi ran to the stall, retrieving her horse and quickly mounted it to follow the direction Donghyun had provided her with.

For once, she neglected proper safety, hauling the horse to gallop at its fastest speed, holding the rein securely between her fingers. She cared not for the rain dispersing against her body, nor for the muddy puddles that dirtied the bottom of her dress. Her heart yearned to find her brother, and another part of it anticipated meeting Woohyun again. She had left him as soon as the court trial ended, not knowing how to relay a proper gratitude. But such thoughts had to be saved for later.

The house with the marbled pillars came in sight after a moment, and Hyunmi jumped off her horse to approach the front door. She led her mount to stand underneath the balcony where it would be shielded from the storm. With Dongwoo being the sole occupant in her mind, she braved herself to knock on the door.

When the door opened, however, her heart had a different yearning altogether. A million words of apologies and gratitude caught itself in her throat, unable to be conveyed to the one it was meant for. How could she inquire Dongwoo’s whereabouts if she hadn’t apologized for her accusations? How could she pretend to remain indifferent when all she wanted was to embrace him and feel his warm lips upon hers again?

“Hyunmi?” Woohyun uttered, equally surprised to see her presence. For a short moment, he disregarded the cold display between them, forgot their obstinate encounter at the trial, and neglected the disparity he was supposed to maintain. Seeing her entire body shiver against the soaking outfit, he did not think twice to take off his expensive blazer and placed it over her. Of course, she rejected his benevolent act.

“I am here to find my brother. Is he residing at your house?” she asked, the rush imminent through her clattering teeth and trembling voice.

“I haven’t seen Dongwoo. Is everything well?” Woohyun asked.

Hyunmi staggered her breathing, unable to bear the genuine concern in his voice. A person of such benign character was not deserving of her doubt and accusations. She was unworthy of his affection and did not dare stay in his presence a second longer.

“Excuse me, I need to find my brother.”

“Hyunmi.” This time, Woohyun caught her by her wrist, using force to pull her against him. The warmth of his body penetrated through the cold drapery against her body, embracing her with indescribable delight she should not have indulged in. “You look haggard. I am afraid you may faint if I were to let you return to the rain.”

“It is none of your concern. I need to leave,” she tried, only to have Woohyun tighten his hold around her. Her resolve to escape crumbled, for her beating heart betrayed her will and desired to stay.

“Of course it is my concern. You were, are, and will always be important to me,” Woohyun spoke, caressing the side of her face with his fingers. The cold water droplets felt warm against her burning skin. Her temperature reflected the start of a fever, but Woohyun knew she’d be too stubborn to rest. “If you need to leave, I insist on accompanying you.”

Hyunmi shut her eyes, unabling to stop her heart from desiring him. In the midst of chaos, her hand trailed over his, wrapping her fingers around his. “I do not deserve your kindness, Mr. Nam.”

“I am in no position to judge whom my kindness should and shouldn’t be disposed to. However, do me a favor and come inside to change out of those wet clothes. I do not oppose to nursing you if you were to fall sick, but I doubt Dongwoo would be ecstatic to know of your recklessness,” Woohyun grinned with implied humor. He grabbed her hand and lightly brought it to his lips, pressing light kisses against it.

Hyunmi could barely hold back a small giggle. Despite her panic, she knew the truth weighing in Woohyun’s words and inclined to his request. She had missed him too much to let the opportunity pass.

“I live in solitude without the presence of my parents. You needn’t worry about a possible encounter,” Woohyun spoke before she managed to pose her wonderment out loud. Seeing the discomfort, he told her to wait by the door as he retrieved a new set of garment.

Being in the luxury of the house itself, Hyunmi realized her inferiority compared to him. She was truly undeserving of his kindness, and unworthy for him. She was a lowly ranked orphan woman whereas he juxtaposed her mere existence. A relationship between them was erroneous, no matter how much he tried to proof otherwise.

Then again, how lonely must he have felt to be confined to such a majestic cage. Perhaps he had found genuine joy back at their humble house due to the overflowing presence of all the children. Why did she sent him away to a cold place of solitude?

“This belonged to my mother. She hasn’t returned here for nearly a decade,” Woohyun’s voice interrupted her troubling thoughts. He stretched his arm out, holding a pair of garment and the fluffiest towel a commoner had ever seen.

“I can’t,” Hyunmi hesitated, holding her hands up to decline his gesture.

“You can, and you shall,” Woohyun grinned. He took her hand and deposited the entire outfit in her arms. He placed a smaller towel over her head and gently tugged at the sides to dry her hair. “Why did you overlook the need to take an umbrella with you? If it were any of the children, you’d scold them by now.”

Hyunmi pressed her lips on a sheepish smile, unable to admit her pecuniary inability to afford a luxurious item such as an umbrella. There was no need to further increase the gap between their differing world. “Perhaps, I needed a reason for you to invite me in,” she jested instead.

Woohyun’s eyebrows sprung with delight, as did the rising corners of his mouth. “You, out of all people, have no need for silly excuses to come inside. If it were up to me, I’d let you stay with me forever.”

Some things never ceased to change, including the manner his eloquent speech made her heart start a tumultus dance. Had the rain washed along the misunderstandings between them? Had it erased their quarrel from several weeks ago? Or had they both missed each other to the extent of neglecting what had happened?

“We must find my brother,” Hyunmi said, exhaling a long breath. She was afraid she’d drown in his honeyed words if they were to remain in his mansion any longer. Her priority, unlike him, had to be her brother.

“Very well. Let me prepare a carriage,” Woohyun said.

“A carriage?”

“Certainly. Do you truly expect me to send you out in the rain after getting you into a dry outfit? I shall also put Carrot in the stable among my other mounts.”

Again, he made it impossible to maintain the firmness of her expression, crackling it into an array of smiles and giggles. After ensuring her patience, he hurried to the back entrance to retrieve his carriage. It didn’t take long before the wagon appeared at the front door; Woohyun already seated inside whereas another servant, no different from herself, took the rein.

“Where do you plan on searching for Dongwoo?” Woohyun asked, helping her step inside. He then signaled the servant to start the carriage.

“I haven’t had a clue. I searched the surrounding area by the house, to no avail. The others are continuing their search while some are at home, awaiting his return,” Hyunmi said.

“Hm, I suppose we could search the town since we have the advantage of the carriage,” he suggested. Through a hesitant nod, Woohyun knew she wasn’t convinced of his idea. He placed his hand over hers, rubbing his thumb over her cold skin. “Don’t worry, my love.”

His endearing term punctured her chest with warmth and guilt all at the same time. Oh how she had missed being his loved one, but neither could she fully relish it knowing she had been the one to dismiss him in the first place. She was truly deserving.

“I would like to apologize,” she finally forwent her pride, being the first to say the words out loud whereas he had lived the apology through his merciful actions.

There was a small flinch in the manner Woohyun held her hand, and he dared himself to fully enclose his hand around hers. “As do I, my love. I apologize as well.”

Hyunmi drew a breath and abruptly pulled her hand away, likening herself to the dirt he should not be associated with. “Nay, what I did and accused you of was unforgivable. I can hardly fathom why you don’t despise me after my cruel actions.”

“Because your mistakes don’t define you and should never eclipse the goodness in your heart. To care for you is to accept both your goodness and mistakes,” Woohyun softly spoke, turning toward her. His hands began to stroke the side of her arms, watching her draw in another breath at his touch.

“What if there is no goodness left in me? Not only have I accused you, but my beloved brother became the victim of my wrath as well. I have gone too far, spitting my anger at him. Now he is missing. What if it because of me?”

“Hyunmi, I suppose you don’t realize the strength of your own brother. His inadvertent lack of proper syntax does not hinder his will to think and function as any other person. It is a trait many people fail to see.” Woohyun gently tilted the side of her face, catching a glimpse of her collecting tears.

“You speak the sole truth. However, there is a fact you are not aware of,” Hyunmi admitted, closing her eyes. Her fingers started twisting the fabric of her dress, nearly ripping it. “Truthfully, Dongwoo was born an ordinary boy who bore the ability to speak like everyone else.”

Woohyun’s eyes sprung open, his hands unconsciously leaving her cheek. He had always thought the disability was present since birth. Had there been another factor? His eyes bore intensely into hers, prompting her to continue.

She remembered the day of their little exchange in the kitchen; the moment where she told everyone’s past except her own. Today, her story started with her brother. “The tragic incident occurred in 1857.”

Woohyun recognized the significance of the year. “The Indian Rebellion,” he whispered, mouthing the word as if it were taboo.

Hyunmi nodded in acknowledgement. “It was the time when chaos ensued everywhere; a day of which I have no personal recollection of. I was a mere infant that time, barely four years old, and heard stories passed down by neighboring residents.”

Seeing the suffocation in her breathing prompted him to gently wrap one arm around her, providing strength to relive the torturous event.

“One night, as we were fast asleep, an army of men invaded our house. They held torches and weapons. Some accounts recalled they weren’t soldiers, but a group of aristocrats who went from house to house to create chaos. My brother was instructed to hide me away, whereas both my parents tried to plea for mercy. They had never committed a felony, but were treated no different from a sinner. But those immoral men showed no mercy and they… They....”

Hyunmi clenched her fists and bared her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut as a renegade tear escaped. Her hushed sobs morphed into a controlled cry of agony. When Woohyun carefully tucked her closer, she buried her entire face against his chest.

“They brutally killed my parents and disposed of their bodies in a fire that was supposed to burn down the house. However, they left in time, which allowed Dongwoo to extinguish the flames before it could spread. But it didn’t shield him from the cruel sight, forced to witness our parents’ torture even as he hid himself.”

Woohyun kept caressing her back in soothing motions, feeling her body tremble with every breath. He had never seen Hyunmi this vulnerable, and it ached him knowing he hadn’t been there to stop it.

“It was Dongwoo who raised me. He risked his life to protect me. He shielded me from death. And yet, I lost my emotion and released my wrath upon him. What if he ran away because of me? What if he will never return?”

As her cries echoed louder and louder in the small carriage, Woohyun had a harder time to control his emotion. He wished he could make things better, but it went beyond his ability. So he held unto her, allowing her to cry out.

“Do not be so pessimistic. We do not know the reason for his departure, neither should we jump to conclusion. Your brother loves you and he would never leave you.”

“But you don’t know of the things I have said, or the cold manner with which I responded to him. I loathe myself!”

“Hyunmi, listen.” Woohyun pulled her away, searching her curtained eyes for some rationality left. But the more he searched, the less he found. He could not cease his attempts to stop her self blame. “We are imperfect human beings who are prone to making mistakes, but forgiveness is at the disposal of those seeking change.

“Did you truly think I would cease my affections for you when you sent me away? Nay. Everyday, I yearned for you, wondering whether it was time to make amendments. But you came to me first. If I bear such strong feelings for you, what more of your brother who risked his life for you?”

Her cries continued to echo throughout the carriage, travelling along the distance. A man of such benevolence seemed too good to be true, and yet, here he was. Holding her firmly throughout her guilt, forgiving her for her wrongdoings, accepting her despite their differences.

Surely if Woohyun forgave her, her brother would too. And despite her noisy sobs and occasional hiccups, Woohyun’s voice resounded as a sweet lullaby.

“It will be alright.”

***

When the sun began to set, their search yielded no result. The rain started to recede, and they decided it’d be better to continue their search on the morrow. They returned to Woohyun’s mansion to retrieve Carrot, Hyunmi’s loyal stallion. But upon their arrival, two silhouettes awaited them, one holding the rein of a horse. They identified the pair as Sungjong and Jineul.

“My, what brings you two here?” Woohyun questioned, too perplexed to maintain the delight in his voice.

Their attention locked unto the two who descended the carriage. However, they did not entertain the inquiry and quickly turned to Hyunmi.

“We found Dongwoo,” Jineul announced.

Hyunmi’s heart began to race, though she could hardly differentiate the feeling as that of delight or panic. Numerous questions swirled in her mind, drowning the joy she was supposed to obtain through this revelation.

Why did neither Jineul nor Sungjong look happy delivering the news? Why was Sungjong present in the first place? If Dongwoo had returned, why wasn’t he the one to meet her? Had he been hurt?

“Take me to him,” Hyunmi insisted, about to follow Jineul on her horse when Woohyun appeared mounting Carrot.

“It’d be faster if you ride with me,” he suggested. “Let Sungjong take Jineul considering she does not know how to mount a horse yet.”

“True,” Sungjong’s voice was barely a whisper as a dark gaze fleeted on his face. Yet, there contained no rush in it at all, as if a part of him wished to delay their sojourn return.

Hyunmi noticed none of his strange behavior and quickly hopped on the horse. “Where are we heading?”

Again, she missed the odd delay and the low tone when both Sungjong and Jineul answered, “home.”

Woohyun, on the other hand, was fully aware of it. His gaze lingered a little too long on Sungjong’s outfit, noticing the red speckled dots along the lower side of his outerwear, possibly blood. Murmuring a silent prayer to himself, he set off the horse to the direction of the home.

The entire journey was filled with silence, except for the horse’s hooves splattering against the muddy road, and the tumultuous beating of their heart that seemed to amplify with each passing second. Each commanded the horse to run faster, faster, and faster, until it reached home.

The eeriness reappeared. Hyunmi could not afford another minute and recklessly jumped off the horse before it came to a proper halt. She ignored the others who cried her name as she tripped, neglected the mud on her hand and knees that prevented her fall, and marched to the front entrance.

Every step felt heavy with an unknown weight chaining her back, and it took an immense strength to open the front door. Her steps creaked louder against the wooden flooring, which greatly juxtaposed the silence engulfing the house. It was dark all over, except for the dining room where she saw the light. So she followed it. Her heart beating louder and louder against her ears. Her pulse beckoning to slow down. Perspiration dropping off her forehead. The light from the dining room momentarily blinding her, shielding her.

In front of her, on top of the table, laid Dongwoo’s body.

Unmoving, unchanging, and forever still.

Hyunmi abruptly fell to the floor. This couldn’t be. The discomfort she felt did not prepare her for this outcome. The tears refused to infiltrate her eyes, because mourning for him was an indirect acknowledgement to their loss. No, her brother had left, but now he had returned. Even if his head shifted at an odd angle to face her, his pupils remained unblinking to fixate a permanent gaze of hollowness, and a trail of dried up blood ran down the side of his head, he would return. Even if his face was swollen and barely recognizable, the emerald scarf around his neck defined his identity.

“Hyunmi,” it was Woohyun’s voice that broke the silence.

She lost the ability to absorb her surrounding, feeling Woohyun carry her weight up to pull her in an embrace. His pair of strong hands held her head steady, forcing her to look away from her brother, and take comfort in him instead.

“I found him lying on the street next to a big campfire,” Sungjong spoke with staggering breaths. His lips were trembling, as was his body. He faced the floor, but traces of dots wetted the floor. “He had a concussion on his head and I can barely recount the amount of blood he had lost. I immediately brought him here.”

“We supposed he had another recurring episode, and that the fire beckoned him to come closer. Perhaps he slipped or fell and hit his head against the trottoir,” Daeyeol spoke, whose presence bore no surprise considering Sungjong was there. “He was always searching for the light.”

“What nonsense are you blurting about?” Hyunmi spewed, emitting a weak chuckle. She pushed away from Woohyun, unable to find her balance as she wobbled over to the table. She knelt down beside him, grabbing his hand in hers. The cold touch made her flinch, forcing her lips into an upward tilt.

“Brother, I gifted you this scarf to keep you warm against the cold weather,” Hyunmi spoke, readjusting the emerald scarf around his neck. Ever since she had gifted him the present, she had never seen him go without it. He valued the scarf as much as he valued her. “But why is your body so cold?”

Others began to muffle their cries behind their hands, trying their utmost best not to break down in front of Hyunmi. But seeing her denial was the true reason for their heartache, for she held onto a false hope that his touch would grow warm, that he’d speak and breath again.

But he wouldn’t.

“Dongwoo, speak to me. Don’t leave me,” Hyunmi whimpered, her fingers endlessly readjusting the scarf around him. She stroke his hair to the side, flinching when her fingers touched the bloody trail on his face, as if the small touch presented a piece of reality. She stood still, slowly reaching her hand to his eyes. Hesitation and fear seized her inability to move, knowing this was a direct encounter with the truth.

Woohyun wrapped his arms around her, resting his head against her shoulder. Fresh tears kept breaking free, and he kept parting his lips for breath. Her desolate state encapsulated his heart, assimilating their loss of a dear one. He couldn’t bear this misery.

Hyunmi drowned herself into an ocean of guilt; her final memory of Dongwoo being their quarrel. She had mocked his inability to speak what was on his mind, when ironically, it was _her_ who was unable to speak what was on hers.

_I’m sorry._

_I love you._

_And thank you._

Words she wished he could hear, but would forever remain unheard.

Woohyun heard the faint sobs forming on her lips, the stagger in her breathing, the rise in her shoulders, and the cry that followed afterwards. He stumbled backwards when she turned to bury herself against him once more. This time, the truth had already caught up to her. When Woohyun looked up, Dongwoo’s eyes had been closed for an eternity.


	28. Confession

Grieving over one’s absence did not compensate for the void left behind. Every mournful tear was a reminder of another lost opportunity at being together. Million words remained unspoken, and thousands of dreams unattained. They hearts continued to cry out in the hope it would mitigate the pain.

It didn’t.

“Thank you. Your presence is very much appreciated,” Hyunmi recited over and over again as visitors appeared and shook her hands in condolence. The veil covered her visions, but her pupils gazed into an unknown distance, unable to recognize the people passing before her.

Were these people truly acquaintances of her brother who mourned his departure? Or were they evil doers who celebrated his death? No energy remained in her to discern good from evil; exhaustion carrying itself in the weight of her voice.

“Mother.”

Hyunmi looked up, distinguishing the familiar voice. Seeing Rika stand before her, another set of uncontrollable emotions unraveled itself. The two spoke no more, silently translating their grief through a tight embrace. They never imagined their reunion to take place at a funeral.

“My deepest condolences. I am truly… I…” Rika was unable to find the words, only continuing to wail louder. Her nails dug deeper into the back of Hyunmi’s black dress, the appropriate mourning attire she would wear for weeks to come. “I apologize you endured the sufferings on your own, mother.”

“Nay, I was never by myself,” Hyunmi spoke, her voice hoarse and weak despite her attempt to dawn a smile. What a horrid realization it was. She had always been surrounded by her loved ones, but at Dongwoo’s time of death, he had been in solitary confinement. No loved one was present to bid him farewell. How tragic.

As Rika stepped aside, Hyunmi was surprised to see the honorable judge and his wife standing before her, both dressed in black attire to show their token of respect. Outside, even officer Lee Howon was keeping guard, though he refused to step inside.

“My deepest condolences, Miss Jang,” Myungsoo spoke, gripping her hand with a tender squeeze.

The moment he let go, Seulyi appeared, forgoing all formalities as she took Hyunmi in an embrace. “I am truly sorry for your loss, Hyunmi,” she wailed, shuddering her shoulders to the rhythm of her cries.

Hyunmi experienced a momentary confusion, wondering what had happened to instigate this sudden connection. Seulyi, once reluctant to acknowledge her lowly life existence, showed no hesitance at today’s union.

“I understand your grief. My sister was once taken by lowlife drunkards, and I was rendered helpless,” Seulyi suddenly confessed. “However, some things are beyond our control, and we need to cope with them instead of blaming ourselves for the inevitable.”

Hyunmi whispered small words of gratitude, returning her hold around Seulyi. In the same manner she despised the rich for mistreating her family, perhaps Seulyi loathed the poor for the same reason. Hyunmi had always judged the aristocats for their wealth and arrogance, but perhaps, her prejudice had been wrong all over. Everyone had their own battle; and the inability to see other people’s struggle did not permit any acts of condemnation.

The tearful revelation was interrupted when Woohyun appeared, laying a hand on Hyunmi’s shoulders. “It is time to send him off,” he said.

Hyunmi said no more, only giving the slight nod of her head. Before changing his station, Woohyun pressed a light kiss on the back of her hand. He offered a small smile, relieved to see her return a faint resemblance of that same smile, then left.

Today’s funeral had all been courtesy to Woohyun. He had insisted on giving the most luxurious and expensive funeral. For a man whose life impacted so many souls, only the best should be presented, he reasoned. But Hyunmi disagreed, reminding him of her brother’s humble nature. Dongwoo would prefer a simple memorial, always attempting to efface himself. Woohyun assented her request, but word spread out and many guests came to pay their respects.

Considering women weren’t allowed to attend the graveside service, Woohyun ensured all visitation be done within the funeral house. He ordered the most beautiful coffin with intricate golden patterns carved along its exterior, and a soft pearl white cushion decorated its inside. The orphans placed an item for Dongwoo to take to the other side, including a sketch Rika had drawn, a jar of his favorite jam, and of course, the emerald scarf he never took off until its final moment. His wounds had been cleaned up, and he was dressed in a fine black attire. It was quite a tragic notion how one would only experience the finer things in life during the time of their death.

Before they closed the coffin, Donghyun made a ruckus telling them to wait. He had only began to understand the notion of Dongwoo’s departure, believing he had fallen into a deep sleep, which brought him to a land much much better than here. The little boy started throwing flower petals over Dongwoo’s body, beautifying the coffin, enhancing their gathering as a celebratory send-off rather than a funeral.

“Donghyun, what are you doing?” Joochan asked, trying to stop him from pouring more petals.

“I am beautifying his bed, so he will find greater comfort in his new world,” Donghyun answered with a proud grin.

“Donghyun, have you heard?” Woohyun suddenly chimed it, kneeling down to be at Donghyun’s eye level.

From up close, the little boy noticed the swollen eyebags below Woohyun’s red eyes, akin to the one he had noticed with the others. He decided not to comment on it, wondering why they displayed such sadness when they should be celebrating. “Heard what, father?”

“They say that flowers will sprout from the ground if the person has lived a good life. But if he had been evil, only weeds would grow,” Woohyun spoke.

Donghyun’s eyes widened in realization. “I do not need to beautify his bed. Uncle is one of the nicest person in the whole wide world. Surely flowers will sprout from his bed!”

Only the purest of souls managed to see the good in one’s departure, and Donghyun was one of the rare few who possessed child-like faith. His joy was contagious, and for a split second, they believed Dongwoo’s departure was a festive occasion. He’d be in a better place, free from derision, regain his lexicon, and reunite with his parents.

They were about to continue the funeral ceremony—Joochan had taken his seat behind the piano to play the piece Dongwoo loved listening to—when an unannounced intruder appeared. The first person to enter was Daeyeol, which brought a smile on their faces. But remembering his current place of residency, they realized he brought company. And indeed, striding behind him were Sungjong, Sungyeol, and Sunggyu. For once, Sungyeol seemed rather paranoid, hesitantly looked around him as if being there itself could invite viruses to infect him.

“Oh, how pathetic,” Sunggyu said, tossing his head up in detestable arrogance. He sauntered inside, holding his hands up with authority when Youngtaek and Sungyoon wanted to prevent his entrance. He headed straight to Hyunmi, a grin twisting his lips when Woohyun immediately appeared nearby.

“If you wish to sneer at our grief, you are welcome to do so elsewhere,” Hyunmi spoke, not concealing the ill tempered patience in her voice.

“What a lovely host you are; I have never experienced a more inviting welcome, Miss Jang,” Sunggyu spoke with clear sarcasm. “You have no need to be wary of me. I came here to pay my respects for Mr. Jang Dongwoo. It is the least I could do considering he has transferred the property to me.”

Everyone aware of the property acquisition attempts immediately looked up in alert; Joochan putting a harsh stop to his piece through a dissonant chord. Seeing the smug smile on Sunggyu’s face, no one dared to doubt his words.

“How is that possible?” Hyunmi questioned, suddenly wondering where Dongwoo had truly gone off to the day of his absence. Sungjong had found him in town. Had Dongwoo paid a visit to Sunggyu to negotiate the land ownership instead of trying to find Woohyun?

“If I remember correctly, the honorable judge Kim requested your brother to find a new owner for the land. Considering a female is not allowed to own a property, you are exempted. Therefore, he came to me with the proposal,” Sunggyu spoke, highly bragging of his victory. Every depletion in Hyunmi’s resolve to argue back was a victory to him.

“My brother came to you? Do not speak of such lies,” Hyunmi retaliated, but the conviction was barely audible. A part of her believed such a possibility existed, especially with the ill manner she had treated her brother with.

“Oh, but I assure you it’s the truth Miss Jang. In fact, your brother even requested our banker, Lee Sungyeol, to set up a payable on death account. I assume your lack of intelligence does not permit an understanding of this concept. Likewise, I doubt your idiot brother understood the term even after our broad explanation,” Sunggyu continued, deliberately throwing degrading words to stimulate her anger. His mouth dipped into a growing smirk seeing Woohyun control his woman from charging at him.

“What is a payable on death account?” Daeyeol asked, staring at Sungyeol. But the older brother seemed too deep in thoughts over another issue, slightly flinching in place when Daeyeol nudged him.

“Oh, it… it names the beneficiary to receive account assets when the original account owner dies,” Sungyeol answered, staring at the floor. His tone bore none of his usual arrogance and pride, as it did with Sunggyu. There was a clear disconnect with his surroundings, an issue which Sunggyu paid no heed to.

“Jang Dongwoo had been kind enough to name me the beneficiary of his account should an incident result in his death. And, ah, fate truly has a terrific way of timing, doesn’t it? Who knew he’d leave so soon?” Sunggyu relished his victory, spreading his arms as a boisterous laughter erupted from his mouth.

Hyunmi let out a staggering sigh, nearly stumbling backwards had it not been for Woohyun and Rika to hold her steady. Clearly, her brother had been tricked into obeying their will. They were skilled deceivers after all, and a person as pure as Dongwoo was an easy target to their scams. However, such mistakes couldn’t be undone. They had lost a brother, a friend, and a home.

It was over.

“Have you acquired legal documents for your claims?” Myungsoo’s authoritative voice suddenly interrupted. Despite being at a funeral procession ceremony, he took on his role as the judge when the need for it arose.

“Why certainly, Your Honor,” Sunggyu replied, his lips curling up with mockery. He snapped his fingers, commanding Sungyeol to bring him the paperwork. However, Sungyeol’s gaze had lingered at some unknown distance, hindering him from hearing the signal. It took several more attempts before he jolted back to reality, hurrying to Myungsoo. He opened the briefcase, obtaining several documents for the judge to inspect.

“Aha, I see,” Myungsoo muttered, nodding his head as he scanned the paperwork. He then cleared his throat and lowered the documents from his face. “These are all proper documents. However, you seem to forget the most important aspect of doing these transactions. None of these documents are legal and can be put into effect unless they contain my approval.”

“What?” Sunggyu huffed his breath, hanging his mouth in an odd shape as furious eyes gazed at the judge. “No such rule exists in the jurisdiction!”

Myungsoo’s face, usually deprived from any emotion, allowed a small smile to form, more cunning than anyone thought he’d be capable of producing. “Mr. Kim, you seem to forget whom you are speaking with. Do you accuse me for having a lack of knowledge regarding the law?”

Sunggyu gulped.

“As far as my knowledge pertains, Mr. Jang originally requested a transfer of ownership document to be processed prior to his death. I have stood as witness as I issued these documents, thus granting this transfer a higher priority should the other party agree to sign it.” Myungsoo turned his gaze to the one in question. “Mr. Nam Woohyun, I suppose you know the subject of my inquiry.”

Woohyun had grown silent, feeling all eyes on him. But their attention did not matter, for the one he truly cared about was Hyunmi’s. He abstained himself from signing the document to prevent Sunggyu and Sungyeol’s reign over him, but mainly because Hyunmi did not seem too keen on the idea. This time, however, the situation was different.

“Tell me what you’d like me to do, and I shall wholeheartedly obey you,” he spoke, never leaving his eyes from her.

Hyunmi pressed her lips together, weighing the options in her head. The only solution to thwart Sunggyu’s plan was to ensure he would not obtain the property. The only person eligible of such ownership was Woohyun, the man whom Dongwoo trusted to hand their precious land to. If Dongwoo had wanted it, how could she ignore his request?

She strode her way to Woohyun, carefully grazing her fingers with his. She tilted her head toward him, perking the corner of her lips into a defeated smile. “If the law doesn’t allow me to posses the house, it’d be better for you to own it than to fall in the hands of the wrong people.”

“If it is your will, my love,” Woohyun spoke, eliciting a smile. “Then I shall return and sign the document.”

At the moment when the rest could have cheered for a favorable outcome, Sunggyu was the first to exaggerate an applause, creating an uproar through his noisy cheer. “What a terrific act! Woohyun, you are truly a gem worth keeping. In the end, you truly managed to acquire the house. How can I reward you? Perhaps you’d like the company of our town’s most provocative prostitutes? If you’re truly fond of Miss Jang, I could purchase her for you.”

Before Hyunmi could utter a protest, Woohyun had already jumped at Sunggyu. He inwardly apologized to Dongwoo for his following actions, but was certain Dongwoo would not allow the beast to speak such harmful words about his sister. This retaliation represented the both of them. Woohyun landed a punch on Sunggyu’s face for himself, and another one for Dongwoo. While he was at it, perhaps he could add a several more blows to represent the despise of each and every orphan.

Sunggyu erupted in pathetic pleas for mercy, but no one cared to stop the slaughter. Hyunmi called the fight to a halt when she noticed Woohyun’s knuckles dipped in blood. She quickly hauled him up, cleaning his blood using a handkerchief.

“That serves you right, you betwattled zounderkite! How dare you treat women as your goods, making money off of them. I should proceed to burn down the brothel you own and watch it plummet along to your fallen dignity!” Jineul spat at him, watching with pride when her blob of saliva fell on his neck. She failed to see Myungsoo’s raised eyebrow at her revelation.

“Fallen dignity?” Youngtaek asked pretentiously, scoffing a laugh. “Hah! He never had one to begin with.”

“Ah, you’re right.” Jineul looked down at Sunggyu, feeling superior when his his body laid idly on the floor and she reigned above him. “I should circumcise you, cut off your manhood in twelve different ways, and force it down your throat. Bon appétit, you indorser!”

The others looked slightly uncomfortable at Jineul’s outburst. Knowing she had been so well behaved lately, they had anticipated this moment of violence. Surprisingly, it was Sungjong who deliriously laughed at her threats. Perhaps he was jovial for not being the one at the receiving end for once.

“Do you truly believe victory shall be yours forever? What is the significance of one day among many? I shall make it my personal objective to obstruct you—all of you—in everything you try to accomplish. You will beg for death to come and retrieve you, I shall personally see to it.” Sunggyu slipped a smile through his gritting teeth, displaying a pool of blood collected at the corner of his mouth. The manner he stared at them was akin to the devil targeting its new prey.

As Sunggyu got up, the rest moved a step back. No longer was he the money driven villain; at this state, it seemed he suffered a case of mental illness himself. He showed dangerous signs of psychopathic tendencies and even threatened innocent bystanders.

“Let’s go, Sungyeol. We have no use being among these lowlife beggars,” Sunggyu called.

However, as he proceeded to the entrance, Sungyeol had been dozing off once more. Nay, upon closer inspection, he hadn’t been dozing off, but seemed to be battling an inner affliction in his head. His body began to tremble terribly at Sunggyu’s approach, causing the briefcase in his hand to ripple in action.

“Lee Sungyeol!” Sunggyu voice thundered viciously.

Sungyeol jumped up in surprise. His face had turned pale, completely aghast. Upon sighting Sunggyu’s sinister stare, the color left him altogether. His hands began to shake to the point the briefcase slipped off his grip, falling on the floor with a thud. It clicked open, and numerous documents scattered out. Upon them, they noticed an odd detail they hadn’t noticed before.

Blood stains.

“There is blood everywhere!” Seulyi shrieked, alerting every guest who had not seen the debacle take place. Her scream prompted people to evacuate the room.

Joochan was quick to shield Donghyun’s eyes from the sight, wondering how to alleviate the tale to the little boy if he were to question it. Woohyun, seeking order in the situation, quickly moved outside to call on the police officer.

“Mr. Lee and Mr. Kim, why is blood embedded within these documents?” Myungsoo asked, sheltering his wife behind him. He made sure Seulyi would be safe among the rest as he slowly stepped forward, trying to inspect the documents. He wouldn’t dare make an incorrect assumption, even hoping he had been wrong. But nay, the blood had not been forged.

“Dare I ask whose blood it was?” he continued questioning when no one answered.

Finally Woohyun returned with Lee Howon next to him. After receiving brief instructions, Howon moved to the documents, picking one up and placing it near his nose to take a deep whiff of the iron scent.

“The blood is fresh. Barely 24 hours has passed since its appearance,” Howon analyzed. He abruptly turned to Sunggyu and Sungyeol, the owners of these documents. “Considering these documents were found in your briefcase, I require the two of you to give me an account of your whereabouts within the last 24 hours.”

Sunggyu gritted his teeth, avoiding a glance at Sungyeol whose body continued to tremor beyond the norm of a normal person. In fact, he hadn’t averted his gaze toward Sunggyu even once.

“We met up with Mr. Jang in my office that morning. After he signed the documents, we remained at home and started modifying the blueprint regarding the new infrastructure. With the old Jang residence gone, it is time we renovate the land into something more useful.”

“Wait!” Donghyun gasped, removing Joochan’s hand from his eyes. He frowned at Sunggyu with bewilderment, blinking his eyes. “That isn’t possible, sir. Uncle was still at our house in the morning. It was only around 3 PM when we noticed his disappearance.”

The little boy’s observation had everyone baffled. Youngtaek and Hyunmi exchanged short glances with one another, seeing more and more of Donghyun’s gift being cultivated. He’d truly make a wonderful lawyer or detective someday.

“Mr. Kim Sunggyu, would you like to amend your testimony?” Howon questioned once more.

“Well, it was a simple error on my part. I meant to say we went over the negotiation deals with Mr. Jang in the afternoon,” Sunggyu seamlessly answered, as if the mistake had been deliberate.

“And prior to that? What had you been doing?” Howon urged.

“We went over the terms and conditions of our proposal,” Sunggyu answered, too smooth and well rehearsed. There was a lack of authenticity in his voice, though voice alone could not vow as a credible source.

“Mr. Lee Sungyeol, would you like to comment on the statement?” Howon continued interrogating.

Sunggyu threw a glance at Sungyeol, creasing his eyebrows when the other took deep strides of breath, his chest expanding and contracting in swift rhythms. Something was amiss. The color had returned to his face, but instead of pale, he was covered in all shades of red. Sunggyu sensed an execrable omen and wished to put an end to this foolish interrogation.

“Mr. Lee Sungyeol has been in my company since—”

“Enough!” Sungyeol’s sudden outburst ripped the air into deafening silence. Only his heavy breathing echoed, which gradually grew into squeaking whimpers, and then a maniac laughter. “I can no longer confine this knowledge to myself! Everyone needs to know the truth!”

“Sungyeol, you shut your mouth!”

“No, Sunggyu, I shall rather live in atonement for my crimes than die in guilt for the knowledge I bear,” Sungyeol spoke, pressing his lips to form a lopsided line. His eyes frantically searched the crowd, finally finding the one he sought for. With an odd sway, he teetered his way in front of Hyunmi, and to everyone’s surprise, fell to his knees.

“Miss Jang, your brother’s death was no accident,” Sungyeol confessed, shutting his eyes in tantalizing pain as a lonesome tear escaped. “We killed him.”

The confession brought on an uproar of protests and demands, requiring more details to be evinced. Howon and his fellow policemen had formed a human barricade to prevent others from harming the defendants in this case. They blocked the entrance, preventing anyone from escaping. Some closed in on Sunggyu, ready to hold him down were he to retaliate.

“What?” Hyunmi dared herself to ask. She looked at Sungyeol in the hope it was their final stride of terror. It was in their nature to lie, and she bore no power of resilience to this news. As Sungyeol took a deep breath, she prayed for his words to be a lie.

“He came to us after our request to meet up. Indeed, we had planned to negotiate the property transfer with him, but Mr. Jang showed no signs of cooperation. He rejected our every offer and left before we finished. We followed him outside, and began to threaten him. I do not know what happened, but it was as if he lost all rational to converse with us, suddenly envisioning himself in a different setting. He kept mumbling that people were coming, though we were the only ones outside.”

Hyunmi squeezed Woohyun’s hand, putting her other hand in front of her mouth. Tears were threatening to fall, and she had no resolve to withhold them. Dongwo’s episode recurred, and none of them had been there to help him.

“When we were nearby a big fireplace, Mr. Jang insisted on going there, mumbling about seeing the light. I suspected he want to burn off the documents in his hand, so Sunggyu and I ran after him, engaging in a physical struggle to obtain the document.” Sungyeol snatched for breath, the waterwork having fully engaged him.

“You must understand, the road was frozen during the cold winter season. What was supposed to be a light struggle ended up as a violent push. Mr. Jang lost his balance, slipped, and fell backwards as his head hit the ice. The amount of blood he lost was…” His words were drowned in inaudible sobs, not just his, but collectively.

“We could’ve brought him to see a medic, but we were frightened of the consequences chasing us and chose to abandon him there. Perhaps he could have been saved, but we permitted time to pass by as death reclaimed him. It was our fault he passed away. We murdered him.”

“That explains how I found Dongwoo near the fire,” it suddenly dawned upon Sungjong. But by the time he arrived, it had been long too late. Dongwoo had breathed his final breath. “You two aren't murderers, you’re monsters! You’re the devil’s spawn! Oh, I’ve been cursed to belong to this wretched family. I should cut off my tongue for having called you my brother. To think I used to sought after your approval when in the end, you are no better than the pig’s excrement.”

Whereas Sungyeol showed remorse and regret, Sunggyu bellowed a piercing laughter, neither malign or sinister; it was completely insane at this point. “Why, we have rid the world of one more idiot. Isn’t that ideal? The society does not need the likes of him; he is a failure to our society. No wonder his parents died early; neither could bear the shame of raising a dimwit idiot for a son.”

His words had gone too far, Hyunmi could not tolerate her deceased family to be insulted; especially not by the man she loathed the most. In her moment of anger, Hyunmi’s eyes drifted around her, scanning for an object she could use to avenge her family with. But before she managed to lay her hands on something, Woohyun had held her steady by wrapping her entire body in his.

“Let the police officers handle the issue. You should not level yourself to his insanity. Do not become a murderer, or you’d be no different from him,” Woohyun spoke in a rush, hoping the words would reach her at a time where rage and grief intertwined into an emotional mess. To his relief, he felt the tension leave her body. She fell to the ground, and he carefully descended along with her, ensuring she wouldn’t hurt herself or anyone else. Her awful silence lasted for no more than several seconds, and soon she began to wail, wishing she had been there to save her brother.

“Gentlemen, arrest Mr. Kim Sunggyu and Mr. Lee Sungyeol. The two of them have been indirectly involved even if the death may have been accidental. The fact you chose not to aid Mr. Jang does not break any sanction of the law, however, the pride of your indirect involvement justifies your actions as that of an accomplice. Aside from that, Mr. Kim Sunggyu owns numerous brothels as previously testified by Miss Shin Jineul, whereas Mr. Lee Sungyeol has falsified documents and allowed a payable on death transfer using his status as a banker. Therefore, you are both proclaimed guilty, and sentenced to jail for thirty years,” Myungsoo spoke. Using the edge of a pen, he hammered against the wooden table three times to set his orders into motion.

“You can’t do that! That is not valid! I did not murder the idiot!” Sunggyu yelled, resisting the men who closed in on him. However, he bore no strength to fight them off and struggled his way into their confinement.

“Perhaps we can arrange a psychiatrist to visit him as well,” Myungsoo called, the rare grin making its appearance again. Though he was not allowed to be emotionally attached to any of the cases he handled, he had always known of Sunggyu’s persistent nature to attain whatever he wanted using any foul methods necessary. The Jangs and the entire house were filled with good people, and Myungsoo did not wish any harm to fall upon them.

“Thank you, Mr. Kim. You brought order to my family,” Rika said, curtsying in front of the man who came to their aid numerous time. What would they do without the honorable judge?

“Do not thank me, it is Mr. Nam who saved you,” Myungsoo spoke, catching the eye of Woohyun who looked up at the mention of his name. “Go now, Mr. Nam, and sign the document Mr. Jang has left you with. Only then can I legally declare the house as yours.”

“Certainly,” Woohyun spoke, averting his gaze between Hyunmi and the judge. “Your Honor, may I request to delay the acquisition until the morrow? I wish to stay by Hyunmi’s side for the time being.”

“Nay, it’s quite alright,” Hyunmi said, shushing her voice into a sotto voce resonance. She had grown hoarse and lulled a pitch deeper from her endless amount of tears. “It is a matter you should settle as soon as possible. Only then will it set our heart at ease.”

“But are you alright? I fear you might do something reckless in my absence,” Woohyun spoke, half jesting, but also perturbed it might really be so.

“You do not need to worry about me,” she replied, leaning her forehead against his arms. “In the end, we have regained justice for my brother. That is all that truly matters. He never intended to sell the house to anyone but you. I simply wished I had the chance to how regret and gratitude.”

Seeing her restored conscience bought a relieved smile on Woohyun’s face. He placed a chaste kiss against the crown of her head. “I am certain he has always known about it, even if you had not announced it out loud.”

Hyunmi nodded along, and using Woohyun’s help, returned to her feet. Despite the commotion caused by Sunggyu and Sungyeol, today they’d commemorate Dongwoo’s legacy. He had lived a life filled with numerous challenges and rejections, but never stopped striving for the best. If Dongwoo ceased to give up, what more of the others who face no linguistic setbacks? Though he had nothing tangible of value, at the same time he accumulated an unspeakable faith and endurance that set an example unto others.

Hyunmi stared at her brother asleep in the coffin, wondering if she was imagining the signature smile on Dongwoo’s face that radiated such joy, as if he would cackle a joyful tune any moment now. In fact, he had never seemed more peaceful before. He’d be at a greater place indeed. With that thought in mind, she smiled in reply and adjusted the emerald scarf around his neck for one last time.

“Thank you, my dearest brother,” she whispered, releasing her hand from the scarf. “I love you.”

With that, they finally closed the lid of the coffin, allowing eternal peace to carry him away.


	29. Change

Despite the endless upheaval piling up before them, and an infinity of challenges begging for a concession, they did not allow the situation to overthrow their ability to reign above it. Through perseverance, a seamless ocean of tears, and people losing and discovering themselves, they managed to overcome it all. Greater changes awaited at the end of every battle fought.

The orphans nearly forgot to express their surprise when Hyunmi had appeared with Woohyun the other day, as if their temporary separation had never taken place at all. The two belonged together, it was a fact they came to acknowledge after numerous endeavors endured together.

Perhaps there was a manner to identify whether a couple was meant to be or not. Firstly, they bore the ability to change each other into a better person. Indeed, Hyunmi learned to forgo her prejudice about the rich and treat them with unbiased kindness, whereas Woohyun learned that joy was obtained in the company he was with instead of the goods he owned.

Secondly, they bore the ability to inspire the ones around them. Their union managed to transform the orphans into having two paternal figures in their life. They even managed to melt Sungjong’s arrogance, convince Seulyi to look past one’s low rank class, and taught Myungsoo to love an orphan as his own family member. A pair that became an inspiration wherever they went was a pair who could change the nation.

Therefore, they had all been confused when, upon the return at their house, Hyunmi’s first command was for them to pack up. They did not understand the need to leave, but exhaustion depleted their energy from questioning her. They took their individual suitcases and began packing their things. Rika, Daeyeol, and Sungjong—who were permitted a visitation—patiently aided the others. When the next morning arrived, they continued where they had left off. The children exchanged puzzled glances with each other, only whispering their perplexity without Hyunmi overhearing it.

Apparently, they hadn’t been the only ones bathed in confusion. When the doorbell rang that morning and Woohyun appeared, the frown was a stark indication of his bewilderment. He stared at the collective group of suitcases at the foot of the staircase, then turned to Hyunmi who answered the door.

“Are you traveling somewhere?” he asked.

“Yes, permanently,” she answered.

Woohyun let out a small chuckle, tilting his head sideways with squinted eyes. “What a peculiar timing you have chosen to go on a voyage.”

“Oh, but our departure isn’t one of entertainment. We need a new home to settle in,” she replied, keeping her lips in a firm line.

This time, Woohyun laughed even louder, wondering whether she was jesting him. “Hyunmi, have you forgotten yesterday’s affair? I visited Myungsoo this morning and officially signed the document Dongwoo issued me with. This house belongs to me now. It is a property under my name.”

“I am very well aware of it, you do not have to come and brag,” Hyunmi said, her lips almost forming a smile. “Congratulations, Mr. Nam. I believe this house shall be in good hands under your ownership. Do take care of it well; it is the final heirloom my parents left me and my brother with.”

Woohyun blinked his eyes, beginning to see the absence of humor in her voice. He shook his head at the absurdity of her mindset. “Hyunmi, what are you implying? Do you honestly believe I want you and all the children to evacuate this house?”

“It is your property, and we cannot afford staying here under the basis of your kinship. It is only proper that we depart to find a new place.”

“And where will you go?” Woohyun asked, grabbing her by her arm, preventing her from running away again. “Don’t I, as the new owner of this house, bear the authority to decide who is allowed to stay under which terms and conditions?”

“Certainly. However, we do not have enough money to afford your accommodations. You seem to have forgotten our destitute situation, and we refuse to accept your eleemosynary kindness.”

“And you seem to have forgotten I care for you and all the children. Do you honestly believe I signed my name on that document to chase you out of here? Nay. I signed it to ensure you and the others are allowed to stay here without anyone daring to bother you ever again.” Woohyun could not believe the shallowness of her mindset, even after all this time. He pulled her to lean against his chest. “What good is this house without your presence residing in it? I let you go once, and I shan’t repeat the same mistake again. If you move, then I shall move and sell this house.”

“Woohyun, you can’t threaten me like this,” she huffed against his chest.

“You can’t abandon me like this, either,” Woohyun insisted. From the side of his eyes, he noticed the children had gathered in the living room, spectating their little dispute. It was the perfect timing to make his confession. “Listen, I purchased this house without the intention of owning it. Let us consider my name on paper a legal procedure we have to conform to, however, this house is yours to keep. It is a gift from your parents. How could I possibly take something so precious away from you?”

“Nay, that is against the law,” Hyunmi bit her lips while shaking her head. As a law abiding citizen, he was requesting too much of her. His hold was suffocating and she pushed herself away. “It is signed under your name, and therefore it is rightfully yours. It shall never be mine. We aren’t even related to begin with.”

“Then marry me.”

Hyunmi froze, turning her gaze abruptly on him. Words escaped her mouth, but a chorus of gasps resounded behind her from fellow orphans. Her heart began to prance louder, and she could hardly differentiate it as panic or excitement. As he threaded his fingers with hers, it was dubiosity that settled in her heart. She couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Marry me, become my wife, and the house shall rightfully be yours,” Woohyun spoke, a faint smile curving those eloquent lips into a nervous grin.

Hyunmi scoffed, worrying her bottom lip with her upper teeth. After a few seconds of anticipated silence, she smiled, and retracted her hands. “It seems you have completely lost your mind, Woohyun. I can’t marry you for the sake of keeping this house. Have you forgotten our first encounter? I despise marriages. I despise being bound to one person. I despise the confinement that would chain me should I choose to become someone’s wife.”

“But—”

“Above all,” she continued, holding her glare that jolted him to a pause, “I despise you for thinking I’d easily agree to your proposal because I am a mere low class, poor, female orphan. Money can buy you anything in this world, Woohyun, but it can never buy my affection.”

With her sudden outburst, Hyunmi flounced past him and left the house. Woohyun was left in bewilderment, staring at the orphans who showed pained expressions—except for Youngtaek and Jineul, of course, who seemed a little amused at the rejection.

“Who would’ve thought the infamous Nam Woohyun would be denied by the only woman he had ever fancied?” Sungjong spoke with a sardonic smile, all too delighted at this awkward turn of events. His adoration toward Hyunmi elevated through her merciless rejection of the notorious gal sneaker.

“I thought she adored me,” Woohyun said, blinking his eyes in confusion.

“She does, Mr. Nam. That is the only reason she hasn’t outrightly rejected you yet,” Rika exhaled loudly, her lips protruded on a smile. In situations like these, it seemed having feminine instincts worked to her benefit.

“That was not an outright rejection?” Daeyeol questioned, staring at the other boys who all shrugged.

“Nay. Haven’t you noticed the detail in her speech? She never expressed her unwillingness to marry Mr. Nam, but did indicate the reason why she couldn’t marry him,” Rika spoke, proudly holding the key to Hyunmi’s emotion which all the men—and Jineul—weren’t privy of.

“I am utterly confused right now,” Joochan spoke. “Mr. Nam’s heart is as barren as the withered tree branch during autumn. Are you to say there is a chance at rekindling this rejection?”

“Why most definitely! The fault lies with Mr. Nam, truly,” Rika nodded.

Woohyun’s mouth hung agape, opening and closing to utter a word, but not knowing how to properly assess the situation.

“It is every woman’s dream to marry a man who loves them,” Rika fluttered her eyes. But in an instant, a grim frown took over her face, and she pointed at the culprit. “However, _you_ , Mr. Nam, had the audacity to propose to our beloved mother for the sake of a contract? Instead of placing a ring, you offer her the ownership to his house? If I didn’t like you well enough, I would have asked Jineul to beat you to pulp.”

Jineul growled at this, cracking her knuckles to indicate her readiness to hit someone at any time.

“I do not understand. I thought the house was her greatest desire. I don’t wish for her to move away; that is the sole reason for my offer,” Woohyun spoke, a little fearful when he couldn’t comprehend the situation.

“Oh, poor Mr. Nam, how naive you can be at times,” this time it was Youngtaek who mocked a scoff. “Her greatest desire is _you_.”

The others turned to Youngtaek with widened eyes, not expecting the violent boy to utter such romantic words.

“Yes, it seems Mr. Nam’s disgusting speech patterns has rubbed off on me. I have to rinse my mouth with soap and detoxify my mind with some herbal ailments,” Youngtaek spoke, abhorring his own words. He even stuck a tongue out, nearly gagging. “However, since you are the man I have yielded my love pursuit for, I do wish for you to be responsible for Hyunmi’s happiness.”

“It seems a proper proposal is overdue,” Sungyoon said.

“Yes! Yes! Marry mother!” Donghyun cheered with overbearing excitement, shaking his tiny arms as he hopped on his feet. “Then make me a baby sister!”

Again, the others turned with widened eyes, wondering where the little boy had learned it from.

“Uhm… I apologize,” Joochan cleared his throat, slowly and awkwardly covering Donghyun’s eyes and shifting the little boy to look elsewhere.

The rest laughed as Donghyun tried to break free, wanting to witness more.

“Well, Mr. Nam, I believe you are aware of your next course of actions now,” Rika spoke, nodding her head, for her job was done.

“What a smart young lady you are. I can see why Jangjun fell for your charms,” Woohyun spoke, deliberately trying to agitate her for acting all omniscience. To his and everyone else’s surprise, Rika’s cheeks turned a shade of pink. Nay, her entire face had turned pink. They exchanged furtive glances with each other, knowing a great surprise awaited Jangjun at the time of his release.

“F-focus on your own tribulations, Mr. Nam,” Rika stuttered. She swiftly turned away, hiding the blush that had grown a deeper shade.

“I am certain Jangjun will anticipate his return. In two years, I may also return to this place,” Daeyeol spoke, shifting his lips into an animated smile.

“In two years, I could come with you,” Sungjong quickly added, not missing a beat in his agreement.

“For what reason would you want to reside here?” Daeyeol asked, genuinely confused. Back at the Lee mansion, Sungjong had been his only ally. He thought their differences in their upbringing would set them apart, but as it turned out, Sungjong had converted to their ways. There was a certain giddiness and impatience whenever they made plans to visit the house.

“To elude my parents. Haven’t you seen the ill-mannered temper they treated you with at court? To be associated to them, and to Lee Sungyeol who is convicted in jail, would be my greatest embarrassment,” Sungjong uttered, forging a whine that closely resembled woeful sobbings.

“Now, now, have you forgotten you were no different at one point in your life?” Woohyun asked with an impish grin. Oh, how clearly he remembered Sungjong’s first encounter with the Jang siblings. He refused to shake Hyunmi’s hands as common courtesy, nor did he want to breathe the same air as Dongwoo. Over the past months, Sungjong had developed to accept the people from different social classes, thus perishing the disparity between them.

“We shall not speak of those moments. My past does not define my future. I no longer segregate people by their social class. Hell, I would not mind marrying a low ranked woman,” Sungjong added, showing the generosity of his newfound acceptance.

“I do believe the low ranked woman would object to marrying you,” Jineul muttered. “Foolish woman won’t know what kind of zounderkite she’d be bound to for life.”

In normal circumstances, Sungjong would’ve deflected her with an equally insulting phrase. This time, however, he flashed an unruffled grin. “You must be speaking of yourself.”

“What?” Jineul turned abruptly, looking utterly appalled. “How so?”

“A foolish low ranked woman, that is you, isn’t it?” Sungjong continued provoking.

Jineul blinked, retracing the subject of their conversation. Something in her heart was alerted, and she gained no control over her face muscles that contorted into a strange resemblance of a smile—an incredulous one. “Do you reckon I am the one who would marry you?”

Sungjong exaggerated his reaction and made a face or pure horror, repelled by the idea itself. “Why would I be foolish enough to bound myself to you?”

“Because love makes a fool out of men,” Woohyun uttered, his voice blanketed by a velvety and dreamy tone.

“Ah, winter has yet to pass, but it seems love blossoms early this spring,” Joochan lamented, returning to play a sweet melody on his guitar. “Mr. Nam, I do believe you’d need to reconcile with mother to set all our hearts at peace.”

“Yes, a proposal that has long been overdue,” Rika spoke, clutching her hand toward her heart as if it could confine her joy at their union. “Please, nothing would give me a greater sense of accomplishment than seeing the two people I cherish the most be bound together as a married pair.”

Woohyun smiled, but the corner of his lips hinged in a straight line. For once, the confidence of the great man began to deplete at the possibility of losing the one he truly wished to hold dear. “Do you reckon she’ll reject me?”

“She treasures you too deeply to allow a life of misery,” Joochan spoke as if reciting a poem, his voice rhythmic and serene. “For both herself and you.”

The rest of the orphans did not speak, only brimming in smiles to show their agreement. Despite Hyunmi’s stubborn character, they had seen a change in her prejudice after meeting Woohyun. The rich weren’t as detestable as she presumed; and even if they were, they’d be eligible to change. In such ways, Woohyun had changed the woman who abhorred the rich. A person who brought the best out in others could hardly be credited with rejection.

“Wish me godspeed,” Woohyun told them, finally heading out to chase after Hyunmi. It wasn’t hard to locate her, knowing she had gone to the pasture behind the house. The very same place where he had his first lesson in milking cows, where he had teased her for her jealous displays, where Sungjong had first appeared to deliver Sunggyu’s letter regarding his mission. How many months had it been since then? He could not believe the number of changes that had taken place in the short time’s interval.

However, despite the changing season, the changing time, and the change taking place within themselves, there was one thing that remained constant throughout.

“Miss Jang,” he playfully called out with a cadence that could barely restrain his joy. He watched the woman turn around to face him, the forged frown decorating her face in an attempt to magnify her sullen emotions. But nay, Woohyun knew better than to believe in her antics. When he curled his lips upwards, she accidentally let a small smile slip, unable to elongate her irritation at him.

Because in the end, she was still the one who breathed life into his heartbeats, the one who challenged him to strive for the better, and the one his heart yearned for.

“What do you want?” she asked him, a hand on her hips. How adorable, retaining an exasperated act until the end.

Woohyun pressed his lips against a proud smile, unable to contain himself when he sauntered his way to her, each step quickening with impatience. He stretched his arms, clasping the side of her cheeks as he leaned closer, seeking her mouth with his. Before she could put up a protest, he was already kissing her. Oh, how he had longed for this moment to happen. At times, he could only dream of such moment, prompting him to savor every bit of reality between their touch. Her lips were soft and warm, chasing after his own in a perfect fit, right where it belonged.

Even if seasons, time, and everything else changed, his feelings for her would always remain the same.

He had woven an eloquent set of words to justify his actions if she were to protest, but it never came. The passion in her movement, the manner she clutched her fingers against his back, and the low hums elicited within their rhythmic breathing were fair indication of her desire, as much as it was his. Had she relinquished her denial in exchange for this kiss? It prompted Woohyun to deepen the kiss further, but knowing what it would further entail, he pulled away.

“Why, silly woman, do you suppose the question is rhetoric in nature? What I want, or rather, whom I want, should be quite obvious by now,” he spoke, unable to stop himself from smiling. “I want _you_.”

She scoffed a small laugh, thinking of his words as another jest. But when he clutched her hand in his, his grip tighter and more damp than usual, Hyunmi knew she had been wrong all along. He wasn’t jesting. In fact, it was rare to see the confident man falter into a break of sweats and stammers.

“Your brother once inquired me regarding my affections for you, asking me whether or not I loved you. At that time, I said I have yet to obtain the answer, for I barely knew the definition of love itself,” Woohyun took a deep breath, wetting his lower lips before proceeding. “However, if loving someone is the fear of losing them, the unwillingness to let them go, and the inability to live without them, then yes, Jang Hyunmi, I am very much in love with you.”

Hyunmi stared at him wide eyed, her heart dancing a rhythm that matched the pace of his breathing. A jittery feeling consumed her inside, unleashing the desire to smile, to squeal, to embrace and kiss him, all of which she contained inside. Because for once, she saw tears pooling at the corner of his eyes.

“I am aware of your principles against marriage and your fears of being confined to your husband, and therefore I shall respect your decision. I will not ask you for your hand in marriage if you oppose it. I do, however, ask you to spend the rest of your life with me as we are. I can see no other future than the one with you in it, because I choose to love you.”

At this, Hyunmi began to chuckle lightly, her tears glistening in the sunlight like crystal jewelries. She wriggled her hand out of his grip, using her thumb to gently brush off the warm tear from his eyes. “Mr. Nam, although I admire your decision to be mindful of my principles, have you not considered the possibility I may have changed my mind should I encounter the right man whom I can love wholeheartedly?”

The smile on Woohyun’s face began to fade, slowly processing her words. “What are you implying?” he asked softly.

Hyunmi shrugged coyly, though the grin only grew wider on her face. A man as intelligent as Woohyun would certainly decipher her meaning.

Indeed, he did. He used the sleeves of his shirt to dry off the remnants of his tears, taking her hand in his once more. He slowly descended unto one knee, ready to impose the same question again. Oh dear, the plan had been preposterously spontaneous to the point he had forgotten to prepare a ring.

“Here you go, father,” Donghyun’s voice suddenly chimed from the side. In his hand, he held a small ring made of braided grass, intrinsically coined together with a small daisy at its center.

Woohyun was surprised at his sudden appearance, glancing sideways to see the entire household had followed him to witness this precious moment for themselves. Somehow, they must have been aware of his lacking preparation, and took the liberty to create the ring. A ring made out of grass, how fitting to their innocent and humble demeanor.

“Thank you,” he muttered slowly, taking the ring from Donghyun’s hand, watching the young boy hop back to his place among the others. He returned his attention to his beloved, a grass ring in one hand, and her hand in the other. Woohyun looked her in the eye, never wasting a precious second away from the one he loved the most.

“Miss Jang Hyunmi, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

A jovial smile stretched across Hyunmi’s face as she sprung into his arms, nearly knocking him backwards. “I do!”

The moment Woohyun lost his balance to steady themselves, he fell backwards against the grass pasture as Hyunmi landed on him. Along the sound of the children cheering and the two erupting in laughter, Woohyun grabbed her face and leaned forward to place his lips against hers. Their display was met by a loud request for an encore by the others, curtained by a shower of flower petals that fell over them from the sky, as if heavens rejoiced over their union.

To marry someone beneath oneself was a faux pas, and therefore a direct challenge against society’s status quo. Greater changes awaited; the greatest one being the closure of their despair and disparity.


	30. Epilogue

It was the year of 1882, exactly two years after Woohyun and Hyunmi had gotten engaged. The elation was to be shared with everyone, especially with the parents who gave birth to Woohyun, despite never having raised the child themselves. Numerous times, he sent an epistle to announce the jolly occasion and invite them for the wedding. However, not once did he receive a response.

Woohyun had long suspected it, but denied the possibility of their passing. He did not know which reality would easen up his pain; the belief that he bore no priorities in their life and was therefore abandoned, or the unannounced news of their death. Either way, his parents never attended the wedding. The couple never succumbed to any feelings of pessimism, continuing to enjoy each other’s company, and that of their non blood related family members.

This year also marked the reign of the female movement, aiming to bring equality between the different genders. Who knew that one day, women bore the right to vote, to explore their artistic side, and to receive equal treatment as men? Most importantly, premises were allowed to be signed under a female's name when the Woman’s Property Act was legally issued that year.

“Alas, it is time I renounce my ownership of this house and restore it to its rightful owner,” Woohyun exclaimed with a dramatic flair, squinting from the side of his eyes to watch the reaction of his beloved—now wife. She giggled a chime of delight, squeezing his heart with elation at the sight and sound of it.

“Are you offering me full custody of it?” Hyunmi asked, the smile playing on her lips.

“Only if you want to.”

“Hm,” she hummed, pursing her lips to pretend her deep consideration. “But Mr. Nam, you are the wealthiest man in this town. It isn’t proper for your wife to pilfer your property. How would you maintain your status with no premise of your own?”

“My wife seems to be unaware of my most recent purchase,” Woohyun reminded her, the smile carrying over as he looked at her puzzled expression. How he adored that look of pure wonder, emancipating an ethereal beauty he took pride in. Above all, he loved surprising her the most. He wrapped his hand around hers and proceeded. “I purchased the brothel we once rescued Jineul from.”

“What?” she exclaimed, staring at him wide eyed. “For whatever reason?”

“To have it rebuilt and renovated into a school,” Woohyun continued, watching her gaze soften in realization. “I stand firm with my theory and believe you have the talent to teach young women about self respect. In a society where daughters are taught to become property of their husband, you could pulverize those petty beliefs.”

“I thought you were merely jesting,” Hyunmi spoke, recalling that day when she had encountered several young upper class women, curiously inquiring her method of acquiring Woohyun’s affection so that they too, could become the perfect Angel of The House. Oh, what a handful of lecture she had given them that day.

“I never jest regarding my affections for you and what I deem is for your best interest,” Woohyun spoke. He settled his free hand on their entwined fingers, encasing hers completely. “The world is changing for the better, and it needs people to instigate these changes. You have the heart and ability to do so, Hyunmi.”

“But I—”

“Your brother would beam with utmost pride,” Woohyun reassured, planting a soft kiss on her hand. “Trust me.”

Hyunmi sighed, knowing she had already lost the argument against her husband. His words spoke the truth; the world embraced the changes taking place around them. She could see these changes in her loved ones as well.

In her two years of apprenticeship, Rika met several world famed painters, all who complimented her on her talents. Word of mouth spread fast, travelling far and wide over cities. Eventually, many upperclassmen commissioned to have their portraits drawn, in awe by her ability to convey such realism in every brush stroke, conveying an emotion through the eye on canvas. No longer was her gender the subject of foolishness, instead triggering a greater astonishment. Art institutes began to accept female student enrollment, thus enabling Rika to receive the proper education she had been rejected from.

They had thought fame would get the better of her, but Rika had been raised to value family and friendship above all else. The day when Jangjun was released from his two years sentence, she was the one standing at the very front, the first person to welcome him with open arms. Undeniably, the two pulled away soon after, a red shade beautifully painting the side of their cheeks.

In fear of rejection, Jangjun found contentment in their current courtship. The ability to see her on a daily basis was all he required to set his heart at ease. Rika, on the other hand, would not let it slip so easily.

“Two years ago, you asked me to wait for you, and I have,” she uttered, her hands tightly clenching the side of her long skirt. Maintaining a firm eye contact became challenging, and her face seemed to grow a shade redder at his transfixed attention. “What have I been waiting for?”

“Oh,” Jangjun mouthed, awkwardly glancing to the side to see the rest of his family staring intently. Though they tried to take on an aloof act, glancing elsewhere with a pretentious tune whistling from their lips, their curiosity was penetrable. But nay, he had waited his entire life for this moment; he could not let it plummet out of embarrassment.

To everyone’s surprise, Jangjun marched forward, sloppily smashing his lips against Rika’s. The sight was the least bit romantic, but adorable nevertheless. The two clearly had no idea what they were doing. It took a small snicker from the side for Jangjun to pull away, his face as red as the scorching sun.

“Be quiet, Youngtaek!” he commanded his friend, the culprit of the interruption.

“Do proceed,” Youngtaek uttered, raising his hand in the air as his token of apologetic surrender.

Jangjun cleared his throat before facing Rika. The poor girl tapped her lips using her finger, but Jangjun threaded his fingers with hers. He licked his bottom lip, opening and closing his mouth in anxiety before finding disorganized words to form his sentence. “I asked you to wait because I wanted to assess our situation. Two years have passed and I am liberated from my punishment. Tell me, Rika, has your feelings changed toward me?”

“Nay,” Rika answered, feeling the weak squeeze from his fingers. Jangjun looked down, refusing to meet her eyes. He attempted to retract his hands from her, but she prevented him with a mischievous laugh. “It hasn’t changed, because for the past two years, I couldn’t stop my head from thinking about you, and my heart from longing toward you. I have anticipated the day of your release so that I could tell you, I am very much in love with you, too, Jangjun.”

The others erupted in a festive cheer, shouting and jumping for Jangjun’s feelings were finally, finally reciprocated by the girl he fancied.

“Ah, it is truly a good time to return to the house,” Daeyeol interrupted, sighing blissfully as he looked up to the sky. Soon it would be his 21st birthday, marking his legal status as an adult. He’d be able to make his own decisions, including choosing the place of his residency. The Lees proved to be nicer and kinder than the persona they showed during court, and Daeyeol had learned to tolerate them. Sungjong’s presence played a big part in suppressing his anger, clothing himself in new layers of patience every day.

He even learned to tolerate Sungyeol, learning that his pitiful brother truly sought after repentance, regretting his crimes. It was a great contrast to Kim Sunggyu who had become a lunatic in prison, pridefully owning up to all his wrongdoings, even bragging about them to his cellmates. Seeing the contrast between the two convicts, Daeyeol found the strength to forgive his brother.

“When shall you return to our place of comfort?” Joochan asked.

“Perhaps next week. I hope you haven’t wrecked my room during my time of absence,” Daeyeol teased, jerking the other with his elbow.

“Nay, but mother considered the probability of using the room for their child. It has the best access to natural sunlight after all,” Joochan spoke. One could hear his signature guitar strings filling the air along to his melancholic tone. He, too, had been asked to play for the entertainment of upperclass bars and saloons.

“A child? Isn’t it too soon?” Daeyeol nearly shouted, looking at the married couple with disbelief. Hyunmi’s face contorted with surprise whereas Woohyun had an impish grin on his face. Goodness, Daeyeol’s long absence from the house prevented him from deciphering their actions.

“I reckon my jest fills your heart with merry laughter. Consider it a gift to celebrate your return,” Joochan then admitted, treating his friend to a rare sight of his smile.

“Ah, but perhaps there is some merit in your words,” Woohyun mused, placing an arm around his wife to pull her closer.

“It is true, then?” Rika nearly shouted, her eyes glued to Hyunmi’s stomach. “You are pregnant?”

“It is not certain, but I’ve been experiencing some symptoms for the past few months,” Hyunmi confessed, bashfully fiddling her fingers together. She blushed even more when the others gasped behind her.

“Donghyun has been wishing for a baby sister,” Woohyun cooed, to which the young boy excitedly jumped up and down to, yelling incoherent sentences.

Everyone joined in the celebratory mood, congratulating their favorite pair for this favor. Because every child is blessing from God.

“I shall gladly yield my room for the newborn baby, but do wish I would earn a different sort of reward for my solidarity,” Daeyeol jested, yet grinned when Woohyun gave him an approving nod.

“What about me? Will I receive a present of some sort if I were to reside among you?” Sungjong joined in, watching the other with a wide expectant grin.

“That question is not meant for us to answer,” Sungyoon sang, allowing his silent observations to be read by others as he shifted his eyes to Jineul. Apparently, the rest were well aligned with his thought, eyeing Sunjong and Jineul with anticipating grins.

Nothing much had changed on the surface between Sungjong and Jineul, although upon closer observation, it was more common to find the two enjoying each other’s company. They may be bickering for everyone to see, but everytime they sat next to one another and accidentally let the skin of their arms brush together, a blush formed that neither could conceal. Their insulting name calling had decreased; and once, Jineul may have accidentally slipped his real name from her tongue. Such occasions were rare, private, and not for the public eye to witness.

“We should not be wasting our time. Weren’t we supposed to visit the cemetary today?” Jineul spoke, effectively eluding the topic elsewhere.

“Yes,” Hyunmi said, gathering her lips to a faint smile. “Today marks the two year anniversary of Dongwoo’s death.”

***

Upon visiting the cemetery, they realized they weren’t the only visitors at Dongwoo’s grave.

“I didn’t know Mr. and Mrs. Kim planned a visit,” Rika spoke, quick to recognize the two figures she had used as her art subject over and over again. Through Myungsoo’s thick overcoat and Seulyi’s puffy mantle that concealed her upper body, Rika recognized them with ease.

Her loud voice caught their attention as they swivelled backwards, courting a polite bow. Years ago, the behavior to acknowledge ones beneath their status was worthy of ostracization. Now, however, it was a polite courtesy implemented all over. The gaps between different economic castes slowly ceased to exist.

“Good day, Mr. and Mrs. Nam,” Myungsoo spoke, tipping his tophat at the couple, then sending a quick nod to the rest of the orphans.

“What have brought you here, Mr. Kim?” Hyunmi asked.

“Today commemorates Mr. Jang’s passing. I thought it was only proper for us to pay our respects,” Myungsoo spoke.

Sungyoon, ever so observant, saw a bouquet of white lilies carefully placed in an expensive vase next to the gravestone. Seeing the watering can laying idle next to Seulyi’s feet, he could only deduct she had been the one to tend the flowers, replacing them with fresh new ones. It was inspiring to see how much impact a person had when alive, to the point others were willing to nurture him even in his time of death. Seulyi never knew Dongwoo at a personal level, yet somehow, the optimistic man managed to encourage her nurturing care.

“I can’t thank you enough for your kind deeds, Mr. and Mrs. Kim,” Hyunmi spoke.

“Nay, it is not me who should be thanked. I am grateful to have met you all, including your brother. He was a high spirited young man, never allowing his drawbacks to limit himself from doing his utmost best. His heart is too pure for society’s harsh judgement,” Myungsoo spoke. “Perchance, the world may truly change one day, and people will cease their prejudice upon others.”

“Do not despair, that day may be nearer than anticipated,” Woohyun spoke.

Donghyun held his own bouquet of white lilies, about to place it on the opposite side of Seulyi’s bouquet when he gasped and began jumping in excitement. “Mother, father, look! Flowers have sprouted from the grave to surround uncle’s grave!”

The others followed the direction of his pointed finger, finding validation in his words. What a marvelous sight it was, stripped off the logic from the world. The ground of the death was not supposed to breathe life into other denizen. Yet, Dongwoo’s grave was surrounded by white chrysanthemums, as white and stainless as his own life had been.

“Chrysanthemum symbolizes optimism and joy,” Sungyoon muttered under his breath, smiling faintly to himself. “How appropriate.”

“Yes! Father once told me that flowers will sprout from the ground if the person has lived a good life,” Donghyun recalled Woohyun’s words back at the funeral house. He spun on his feet to face the grave, clasping his two hands together. “You have lived a good life, uncle. I pray that we may follow in your steps and live a good life ourselves.”

Hyunmi barrelled her head against Woohyun’s chest, feeling the approach of his arm as he pulled her closer. She took in the beautiful sight in front of her; of the rich and poor who stood united, the male and female who found equality, and the young and old who celebrated friendship as one. It was a sight of impossibilities and novelties; what the world conformed to be outrageous, and yet defined a new beginning.

To live a life well is to live a life of influence. Even when the world showed its dispute, those who walk in the path of righteousness will achieve a fulfilling life; a life abstained from despair, and reproached of disparity.

 

Fin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. Thank you all so muchhh for reading! Thank you to those who left a comment. Silent readers, last chance to show some kindness and leave a comment or upvote XD
> 
> Anyway, I shall miss Mr. Nam. Out of all the Woohyuns I wrote, I think this version was my favorite. The fancy language turned him into a fine gentleman. And with that, this shall also be my final Woomi story here, cause I really reaaaally need to write that book I wanna publish. But who knows, if I get stuck, I might do another Woomi story. I actually have ideas for other plots, but we'll see.
> 
> Once again, thank you all so much for reading! I bid you farewell! <3


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